


Spacedogs in Space

by LtRDataSoong



Category: Spacedogs - Fandom
Genre: 24th century Star Trek (DS9/Voy age), Biting, Don't need a deep knowledge of Star Trek though, Fluffy Ending, Klingon!Nigel, M/M, More plot than porn, Purring, Scenting, Slow Burn, Star Trek AU, Vulcan!Adam, queasy sweetness, recreational use of mint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 15:58:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 24,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7368064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LtRDataSoong/pseuds/LtRDataSoong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nigel is a dangerous criminal who get caught by the Federation, he manages to escape and he finishes in the room of the young Lieutenant Adam Raki, half human half Vulcan, who lives as an outcast, alien to both his people. Adam illogically decided to help Nigel, hiding him in his room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to AceMattMrdck and Victorineb for beta test and niwinutisku for helping me to write the story, you can find all of them on Tumblr.  
> My Tumblr: i-just-wanna-be-a-superhero  
> You can find my drawings for this fic here: https://tmblr.co/ZOdfCl28l2ZEW

Nigel looked disconsolately at his wrists firmly tied together by solid handcuffs. Two guards, one at each side, were escorting him through a shiny white hallway. Probably the cleanest ship he had ever seen, e _verything so fucking shiny and neat._ The two guards were humans, like every single person they met during that ridiculously long trip to his cell. The Starfleet used to boast about its multiracial crews, but in reality the “aliens” were just a drop in a human sea. Incredible how that species of weak monkeys managed to get such a huge place in the galaxy. They were one of the last species on discovering Curvature, and yet they co-created the Federation and now they were fucking everywhere. Even Nigel had some human blood in the confused mess of his genealogical tree. The living testimony of the worst kind of rabble who had passed through the shanty towns of Kronos, where prostitution and black market were the norm and “honor” sounded so far and mocking. He was the son of no one in a world where one was to introduce themselves with their Father’s name.  
  
  
  
  
Another turn, the hallway was empty. Nigel decided he had lost enough time in that comedy, it was time. He stared with expert eyes at the guards, one of them looked like a kid, fresh out of Academy probably, hopefully he would get scared as soon as he knocked out the other one, a more experienced woman that had all the face of living another boring Tuesday. Nigel started to feel the heart getting faster, the blood pumping, foretasting the fight. _The woman first, steal the weapon, shout at the kid if necessary, you can fucking do it,_ _just humans, just two._ A low growl came up his throat, in a second the woman was knocked down, hand at her phaser, Nigel let a terrifying and quite dramatic roar, he threw the weapon away with a quick strike, the gun broke against the wall like a cheap toy. The Klingon raised both arms above his head and hit her on the chest repeatedly enough to let her unconscious. As hoped the “bad ferocious Klingon” play had worked and the kid had run as fast as he could like a little rabbit. Nigel laughed, proud of his own joke, even if the loss of the phaser might be a problem eventually. He had to run now, they would search for him.  
  
He started running randomly through the hallways, hoping not to find anyone. He just needed a place to hide for a while, needed time to think how to get out that messed up situation. _All the fault of that fucking Ferengi who didn’t want to pay,_ Nigel thought, cursing again that cheap little criminal that had dared to do that to him. He wouldn't wait the _revenge to become cold_ , he would grab that little disgusting roach and crash him as soon as he could. It wasn’t wise to stay between a Ferengi and his money, cowardice people, as soon as Nigel had passed to more violent and persuasive methods he didn’t hesitate to sell him to the first law-protectors agency passing. Luckily it had been the Federation.

After a strenuous climb in a turbo lift, _like a fucking rat_ , the fugitive arrived in another hallway, this one looked more isolated, only one door. Nigel hoped it was a stock or a cargo hold, that would be the perfect place to hide, maybe try to find a way to get free from those handcuffs that still wrapped around his wrists.  
  
  
After trying to hear through the door if someone was there, Nigel pressed the button, the door opened with a soft rustle. In the middle of dozen of monitors, behind a working table there was young Vulcan, standing in the rigid posture that seemed natural in his race, watching him with a risen up eyebrow the face inexpressive, the strangely clear blue eyes the only hint of his surprise. Nigel let go an angry curse.

Of all the places he could have ended up, his luck had just run him into the nest of a Vulcan. Impossible to buy, no matter what pretentious promise Nigel could invent, and so strong that even with free hands he would be defeated. In the best possible scenario he would just slip unconsciousness under the Vulcan grip, in the worst, he would have some broken bone first.  
  
Adam looked at the stranger, studying him. Half Klingon at least, judging by the not completely formed forehead, the ridges were barely sketched. An hybrid, like him. Adam couldn’t avoid to think, not that he hadn’t met any hybrid before. The stranger was breathing hard, probably preparing to fight. He was confused by why he hadn’t been attacked yet. The slightly sharpened teeth showing, the typical musky smell of Klingon’s sweat was perceptible to his Vulcan sensitive nose despite the distance, his hands clamped in fists. Adam noticed the handcuffs, _a criminal then,_ he had heard that they would stop the current mission to capture someone, but he really hadn’t paid too much attention, he didn’t care, it wasn’t about him or his work.  
  
The chirping of the doorbell interrupted the stare down between the two. When Adam got closer to the door, Nigel turned rigid, trying to appear as big and scary as he could. The Vulcan re-payed him with a less than impressed gaze.  
  
“Excuse me, if you don’t mind I should answer that.” The strangely high and fast voice almost stammered.  
  
Unable to hide his surprise, Nigel moved aside letting the Vulcan pass and moved at the center of the room, far from the door, which was fortunately at one extreme of the room, so with a pretty limited sight on the room. The klingon stayed against the opposite wall, listening holding his breath. He went near the working table.  
  
“A dangerous criminal has managed to escape and is running free on the ship. Everyone has the order to divulge any information immediately.” Came a voice from the other side of the door.  
  
Nigel’s heart stopped for a second, his eyes wide opened, looking at the Vulcan, waiting for his destiny to finally come, he had been lucky to arrive at this point.  
  
Adam titled his head“I will keep it in mind. Have a nice day” he said quickly with his nervous voice.  
  
“Thank you, sir.” the voice answered while the door was already getting closed.  
  
  
There was a long moment of pause, Adam took a deep breath, eyes closed, laying his head against the door. Nigel looked at him in disbelief wondering what was happening and what is going to happen. Slowly, Adam raised his head, he glared at Nigel, who was standing with the more puzzled expression, more relaxed than before though. His blue eyes avoided any direct contact, wandering around, scattering.  
  
“I am Lieutenant Adam Raki Serial Number 7 IR-547-3192 HIJ Scientific Division” he said rapidly, in one breath then his eyes stopped in Nigel's direction, watching some point below him. Nigel understood he was supposed to answer that.

 

He cleared his throat out of nervousness and still dizzy from what was going on “I’m Nigel, and I’m running to avoid to have a fucking number after my name.” he said, mocking the military tone of the Vulcan. Adam tilted his head again, he didn’t frequently hear swearing, the word sounded weird to his pointed ear, he wondered how it would feel on his tongue. He had never sworn in his life, he knew that it was a cathartic action, therefore emotive.

“Would you like something to drink or eat?” he said, following the protocol of having a guest at home, unfortunately, there wasn’t one about meeting a fugitive, but he guessed the etiquette wouldn’t be so different. Nigel watched as the situation was getting more and more weird at every seconds, and now it was getting ridiculous.

“Yeah sure, whatever, just let me get out this fucking thing.” he said laughing, making the handcuffs clink.

“I can help you with that.” Adam said, he picked up a tool from the near table and got closer to Nigel, who tried to play calm, without letting down his guard. The Vulcan stopped at less than a meter of distance from him, Nigel offered his wrists. He watched Adam kneading with the handcuffs, concentrated. He had strangely messed up and curly hair, so different from that stupid haircut Nigel had seen in every single Vulcan he had met, the ears were pointed and the skin pale. In a few seconds finally Nigel was free, he massaged his wrists, not that hurt, more for the renewed freedom. He thanked the Vulcan with a low snort. “Would you like something to drink or eat?” the Vulcan repeated, looking again in Nigel's direction without looking at him properly. Nigel studied him, he wasn’t joking then, he was genuinely asking. Anyone else and Nigel would probably have made them stop the stupid joke, but the strange Vulcan seemed serious and he found it wise to humor him. Besides, he wouldn’t ever refuse a free meal.

 

“Can I have a beer? I mean a real beer, not one of those fucking fake ones that the Starfleet tries to dump on everyone boasting that it’s better because you don’t get drunk, don’t they fucking know that people drink only to get drunk? Especially if they had a shitty day like me. If I wanted to stay sober I’d drink some fucking tea.” He spoke rapidly, the weirdness of the situation made to him impossible to stop.  
  
Adam’s mind stopped again at the swearing and he frowned “People don’t drink only to get drunk, the consumption of inebriating substances had a long history of use in social and religious events, they had been often considered divine gifts–” Nigel interrupted, rolling his eyes “Fine, _I want to get drunk_. Can that thing” said Nigel pointing at the replicator “make anything able to do that? ”

“Replicators only do synthehol” the Vulcan said, “Would you like a cup of tea?”  
  
A few minutes later Nigel was sitting with his fake beer, Adam was sipping a Vulcan tea. A plate of chips was at Nigel’s side, after the disappointment off the beer he didn’t take the risk to ask for Gagh, however he was devouring them by the handful, gobbling down the beer. Adam looked at him, fascinated.  
  
“Why are you running?”  
  
“I told you, I don’t want a serial number.”  
  
  
At the frowned expression of the young man, Nigel pointed out “I don’t want to go to jail.”  
  
“Federation correctional institutes aren’t so bad” Adam said, he had never seen one, but he had studied the philosophical change of the purpose of prisons behind the change from the cruel and humiliating pre-Curvature ones, usually overcrowded, more concerned about making profit than to actually offer a new life to the inmates, with almost no protection against abuses from guards and other inmates, closed in tiny cells like ferocious animals, in some countries even suppressed like animals. Vulcans loved to tell stories about how savages and barbarian Humans used to be before their arrival.  
  
“I don’t fucking care, a cell is a cell. Besides, the Federation is not the only one searching for my ass, and I can assure you that some other jails are very bad, if I’m lucky enough to get in one and I don’t get executed before landing.”  
  
Adam seemed to think carefully about the answer that seemed logical, especially considering that he might be deported to Kronos.  
  
“Why the fuck did you lie for me?” Nigel said, incapable to keep the question any further, maybe it had been racist on assuming that the Vulcan might not want his money, he just needed to know the prize of his freedom.  
  
“I didn’t lie, Vulcans don’t lie, especially me, lying is difficult. “ Adam pointed, he seemed nervous just at the idea if lying. Too many variables to considerate in lying. “I just omitted that I had information.”  
  
  
“Fine, why the fuck did you _'omit you had information'_?” Nigel repeated letting his impatience show.  
  
  
Adam frowned again, his gaze moved away from Nigel, looking nowhere. He didn’t have any logical reason to justify that. The answer to the guard’s question had just come up naturally, he wanted to cut the dialogue as soon as possible.

Nigel looked at him, he started to get anxious, questioning the reason he hadn’t been reported was a stupid move, it was probably better not to make his savior to think too much about what he had done, or he would find himself in a cell very soon.  
  
  


“So- uhm- you’re a Vulcan?” Nigel said the first thing coming up in his mind, a very stupid question, but at least it worked, distracted Adam from the flow of his confused thoughts.  
  
“I am half Vulcan, from my mother's side, she died when I was a child. My father was human, he died twenty-one days ago.” Adam stated, remembering to cut hours and minutes, people didn't care about hours and minutes, they seemed to ignored that saying so the approximation was unacceptable, that number alone was pretty meaningless.  
  
The Klingon looked at him, not sure what he was supposed to say. “I’m sorry”  
  
“For what?” The Vulcan looked at him confused.  
  
“That– they died” answered Nigel feeling vaguely stupid.  
  
“Oh.”replied Adam quietly.  
  
“What kind of work do you do in here?” said Nigel trying again to start a conversation. He glanced at the room. The only clue that suggested it was a living room was the solitary empty table near the replicator, Adam had had to add a chair from his working table for Nigel All the space was occupied by D-pads and graphics, functions and numbers covered the wall and were displaying on the screens, alien and artistically fascinating to Nigel’s lay eyes. In the corner, near the table, there was what looked like a ancient spacesuit, with flags and symbols Nigel didn’t recognized. Near to it there was a line of glass display cases with different Starships’ Models.  
  
“I’m an astrophysicists, I study all the data the Starfleet collects during his missions. Currently, I’m searching for new planets. Do you know that it had been calculated that at the moment we only know about the 25.64763 per cent of the planets in the whole alpha quadrant?” The young Vulcan stood up, excited, he practically ran to the other side of the room to his working table. After a tweeting sound, suddenly the room went dark and the galaxy was glowing in the middle of the room. Adam clicked on one of the infinite shining stars, and a big majestic planet’s hologram took the place of the white spiral. Nigel could see the deep red and oranges storms on its surface, vortexes of unimaginable size, rapidly changing, drawing intricate spirals.  
  
“Everyone only cares about the few ones that has life on them, they don’t see the beauty and geometric elegance of pure nature, where life is not possible, but some of the uninhabited ones are so fascinating and different. There is an infinite number of kinds and still unexplored possibilities there, like the Hot Jupiters; they are huge gassy planets, the name came from Jupiter, the giant planet in the solar system of Sol, the Earth’s star, but these are even bigger, eleven times bigger than Jupiter and they’re so massive that they finished to collapse against their own stars, burning before and—” Adam stopped, even if he really didn’t see to want to. His speech stood interrupted, floating in the air, suddenly empty of his excited high voice. He rapidly changed his posture, he had been so proud, looking directly to Nigel for the first time -even if not meeting his eyes- who sat with his beer marveled by the hologram. Now the Vulcan reverted to looking nowhere and the fire in his gaze suddenly blew out, lowing.  
  
  
“I’m sorry, I tend to get excited when I talk about space.” he said lowly, the planet disappeared and the light returned. Nigel looked at him with a smirk, this was a fucking interesting Vulcan.  
  
“No need to apologize for that, please continue, I was interested.” He said continuing to smile and motioning with his hands to continue.  
  
Adam got pretty confused, nobody ever asked him to talk more about space. The suspicion that the Klingon just wanted to laugh at him emerged in head. He tried to raise his gaze, looking at his guest to read his expression, useless attempt as always, the magical ability to read intentions behind words and faces was far higher than he was capable of. He decided to avoid the situation.  
  
  


“So–What is your job?” he asked.

  
“Oh well, your pal outside told you everything already. I’m a criminal. I steal, sell–whatever I can.” Nigel said eating another handful of chips. “I got caught because a fucking Ferengi couldn’t keep his fucking mouth shut and sold me to keep both his money and his guts. And now I’m just trying to stay free as long as I can.”  
  
  


Adam processed the information, slowly realizing what kind of person was sitting in front of him, in his room, in his house, his sacred place.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Without adding another word, Adam had returned to his routine. Nigel had eaten some other food, and had the best shower of his life. And now he was sleeping on the floor, in Adam’s bedroom. He had complained saying that he wasn’t _his fucking pet,_ but Adam didn’t see the point of having a couch when nobody ever visited him except Harlan, it would just have been a waste of space, and in case someone decided to search for Nigel it was safer to have him in the more internal room of the apartment, that was the logical thing to do.  
  
Adam lay in the darkness, he had had some confusing and disturbing fragments of dream. While occupied with his work he had managed to keep his mind quiet, but now dark thoughts had started climbing in his mind. His heartbeat was getting too fast and loud, his breath getting faster and harsher. He moved in his bed, trying desperately not to think about what was happening. He had hid a criminal, a fugitive inside his house, there was a stranger, inside his room, he didn’t know him. The pressure in his chest was inflating rapidly, not letting him breathe.  
  
  


Nigel heard his roommate, having what seemed to be a nightmare, if Vulcans could have nightmares, but since he didn’t even know they sleep, he guessed his information about Vulcans were mostly wrong. With Adam's agitation getting more loud and evident, the Klingon was started to get alarmed, he might be sick as far as he knew.  
  
“Adam—is everything fine?”  
  
At the voice Adam felt any defense breaking down, it was real, and _he_ really was there. Adam couldn’t imagine the consequences of his actions, he felt the anxious, his now unpredictable future choking him. He always had an idea of how his tomorrow will look like, he hadn’t felt so lost since his father died or Beth had left with no warning.  
  
Nigel had stayed quite, holding his breath to hear better, the only answer the Vulcan had given had been a broken sound similar to a weep. He got closer to him. In the semi-darkness he saw the Vulcan’s silhouette, dark in front of the mighty light of the star full sky visible from the window just behind him, sitting, with his hand joined, his fingertips touching and head bowed. The Klingon wanted to speak, but he felt like he wasn’t supposed to. So he stayed, at least the Vulcan had stopped hyperventilating. After what seemed hours, in which Nigel tried to watch over his companion, while drifting in and out of a light sleep, where Adam answered him, he got caught and some others thoughts mixed with dreams took life, the Vulcan’s hands finally broke the sign. Nigel woke up totally and again tried to reach contact with Adam: “Hey, you okay?”  
  
“Yes, it’s nothing, sorry.” The vulcan said turning against the window, looking at the depth of the space surrounding the ship, wrapped in his blanket. He was feeling cold, he knows it wasn’t cold, the temperature in his room hadn’t changed, but still he was shaking and felt weird, his mind still haunted by his dreams.  
  
Nigel tried again “Are you sure? If you’re not feeling well--” Nigel thought about what he could really do if that was the case, he let the offer incomplete, calling a doctor would mean surrender and get arrested, he wasn't sure he wanted to voluntary offer himself like that. “I mean, can I help you?”  
  
  
“No, thank you, I am fine.” Adam said, _this is illogical, emotional as always_ “Actually, you could—don’t feel obligated, but would you mind if I hugged you?”  
  
Nigel again thought that the Vulcan was being cruel, mocking him because he had tried to be nice at him, but Adam’s voice had been so distraught that it canceled the doubt being sarcastic in his request.   
  
“Hug me? Why?” Nigel tried to ask.  
“It helps me to calm down” Adam confessed, feeling ashamed, it had been a long time since the last time he could ask to anyone that.  
  
As soon as Nigel got into the bed, Adam wrapped his arm around his chest, holding him tight. Nigel thought that he could brake his ribs and spine, but the Vulcan’s grip was actually reassuring and careful despite the strength. The Klingon tried awkwardly to give back the hug, but as soon as he wrapped his arms around him, Adam asked him not to, “I get nervous when people do that, I feel suffocated.”  
  
“Fine, fine, sorry” Nigel commented raising his arms, not sure what to do with them. He finally just laid one on Adam’s back and the other one on his hair, passing his finger in the soft curls.  
  
Suddenly a noise came up Adam’s neck, a low vibrating sound from his throat breaking the silence and Nigel's torpor. The Klingon's eyes opened wide in surprise.  
  
“Are you fucking purring?” Nigel asked in disbelief.  
  
“All Vulcans do, but they find it ‘inappropriate’ so they usually avoid to.”  
  
Nigel processed the information, _Vulcans, so serious and composed, a bunch of people with a broomstick up their asses, ruling the galaxy upon their superior emotion-free shit, purring like kittens in the intimacy of their bedrooms, considering that a transgression._ He burst into laughter. “You are really the most interesting person I ever met”  
  
“Is that a good thing?” asked Adam with an already drowsy voice, finally relaxing, eyes closed, falling asleep on Nigel’s chest.  
  
“Definitely.” answered Nigel, feeling himself sleeping, hearing the soft and calming purring coming from the little Vulcan. He kept caressing his back and stroking his hair.  
  
“Adam?” He tried, more near to the darkness of the sleep than the real world, a thought still holding him in it.   
  
“Mmh?” Came from far.  
  
“Why you didn’t report me?”  
  
“I don’t know, I’ve never been a good Vulcan, I frequently do things outside logic. I just wanted to.”  
  
“Well, thank you anyway.” Nigel said sincerely, while finally slipping in a calm and timeless sleep. Adam felt the breath of the Klingon getting deeper, snoring a little, the question still in Adam’s head, _I just wanted to._  
  
  
  
The lights turned on gradually, simulating the sunrise. At 7:00 the alarm sounded with an annoying beeping, and as every morning Adam had passed on the ship, he opened his eyes immediately ordering the computer to stop the sound. But for the first time, Adam wasn’t alone. His arms still holding Nigel, who had answered to the alarm with a not well pronounced curse in his teeth.  
  
“I have to get up.” the Vulcan informed, since the Klingon was right in his way to get out the bed.  
  
“Fine, I don’t.” The young man frowned, looking at him, wondering if his request wasn't explicit enough. Nigel turned his back without opening his eyes. Adam just gave up and he climbed over the body to get finally out of his bed.  
  
He got in the shower, he had requested to have a water shower, he didn’t like the sonic one, he liked the sensation of hot water running down his body. He also had a specific Lavender scented soap, it was from Earth, but it wasn’t so uncommon among Vulcans, the scent was calming and his people had a very fine sense of smell. He always had used only that soap, exactly the same, since he could remember. Another completely illogical caprice.

Once out of the shower, with his hair still dripping water, he prepared a cleaned uniform, putting it on and with extreme care pinned the two grade badges on his collar and the communicator on his heart. He watched himself in the mirror with the usual distant look. He returned to his bedroom to find Nigel on his bed, shirtless, holding a cigarette in his hand. A slight line of smoke was rising to from it to the ceiling. He grinned at Adam.  
  
  
“Aren’t you aware that ships usually have a smoke detector?” The smile faded and Nigel did an impatient gesture with his hands.  
  
“Don’t worry, kid” The Vulcan raised an eyebrow at the nickname “It’s not the first time I’ve been the stowaway, you know? No federal ship has such a sensible smoke detector in its rooms, they allow every fucking religion to blow their fucking candles in their apartments and shit.” He take another breath from the cigarette. Adam looked at the tip turning brighter and orange, despite his disapproval, he was fascinated by it, he had never seen someone smoking before, except in holo-novels, but he really didn’t enjoy novels, he didn’t always see the point in fiction stories.  
  
“At least when they searched me, they didn’t take my tobacco away so I don’t have to smoke that fucking replicated shit.” The Klingon added, tasting the cigarette.  
  
  
“You know that replicators by definition replicate objects to atomic level, there is no real difference between replicated and not-replicated things.” The said mechanically, without giving his phrase the questioning inflation. “Actually, replicated things, are technically better, since they can’t have any imperfection.” Adam felt the need to point out, he had had the same conversation with a lot of people, so many seemed convinced that replicated food wasn’t so good, clothes not so soft, and now even tobacco.  
  
“Fucking perfect tobacco is not as good as this. It’s probably the only good thing those Cardassian douches can do.” Nigel said, continuing gesturing with his hands, finding extremely amusing provoking the Vulcan.  
  
“That is illogical, how can perfection be a bad thing.”  
  
Nigel just raised his shoulders as answer.  
  
“Besides, smoking increases the chances of lung, liver, and heart diseases like cancer, heart attacks, strokes, and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. Even 21st century humans knew and stopped smoke–” The high and plain voice of the young man continued.  
  
“Adam, I don’t care.” interrupted Nigel quite tired of the conversation already. “Besides don’t they cure cancer with a fucking hypospray now? People don’t die of that shit anymore, so let me enjoy my cigarette, would you?” He said smirking.  
  
“That is illogical, the fact that medicine is more advanced now doesn’t justify a deliberate attempt of damaging your own health.”   
  
Nigel raised his head in exasperation, expiring a line of smoke above his head.  
“Yeah, well, we are all a bunch of illogical vicious idiots who smoke till their lungs are black, drink till their liver explodes and do stupid things just _because they want to._ It’s the same reason why everyone drinks Romulan Ale instead of that shit of synthetic alcohol: it’s illegal, good, and killing you.”  
  
Adam frowned again, decided that the conversation was getting pointless and he was already late enough on his routine. Without a word he left and went to the living room.  
  
As every day, he asked for “Classic Corn Flakes and milk” he had eaten those since his childhood, a terrestrial typical breakfast that his father used to give him.

Some minutes later Nigel appeared, still shirtless, showing proudly the multiple scars all over his body, knifes cuts, phaser marks and what looked like a Bat’leth bite. The tattoos were even more interesting to the Vulcan eyes though, a Klingon dagger intersected with a Bat’leth decorated the right part of pectoral, a woman with antennae and dark long hair wearing a definitely too poor and historical inaccurate Starfleet uniform, barely covering the abundant breast, greeted him lasciviously while riding a big rocket, just below Nigel’s neck, and a Klingon scripture that said “Today is a good day to fuck” completed the tasteful decoration.  
  
Nigel winked at him, amused by Adam’s intense look at his tattoos, making the Vulcan lowing his gaze, remembering that staring was considered rude. He got to the replicator and asked for a Raktajino, Adam hated that slop as much as the human coffee, he didn’t understand why people swallowed that disgusting stuff. Nigel sat in front of him, sipping. He stopped himself from making any other comment about replicated things -even if he would love to provoke the kid a little more- and glared interested to Adam’s breakfast. They ate in silence, Adam too concentrated about the minutes of delay in his routine, Nigel drinking the bitter hot beverage in a sleepy mode.  
  
Finished their silent breakfast, Adam closed himself in his own job. As soon as Nigel had finished eating, the Vulcan had practically stolen his chair, giving him just the time to stand up, and went to his working table, sat in silence, reading and typing on a D-pad.  
  
Nigel tried for a while to get his attention, annoyed not only to not be center of the Vulcan’s attention, but even invisible to him right now. After receiving the answer of only the tweeting of the fluent writing of Adam, finally as a spoiled needy child tired of being ignored, Nigel went back to the bedroom and let himself fall in the bed.  
  
He laid there lazily, trying to get some more sleep, unsuccessfully, so he found himself staring at the ceiling.  
  
He thought about smoking another cigarette but then he decided it was wisest not to waste them, _replicated tobacco sucks, whatever Adam said._ Nigel sighed loudly as his thoughts fell on Adam, and the vivid imagine of his shaking body curled by his in the semi darkness suddenly appeared in his mind. Maybe he should unburden him, just leave the kid alone. When they first met, and Adam had inexplicably helped him, he had thought to just use him as long as possible, as a free ticket for a little more time of freedom, but now he started to feel guilty for involving him.  
  
He would definitely exploit anyone else, but the more he knew Adam the more it got clear that Adam wasn’t anyone else. He still didn’t understand how exactly Adam was different, but while he was holding him in his arms he couldn’t help to feel somehow responsible and the sudden and stupid desire of protect him had risen in him. Nigel knew that the deep and ancestral fear he had witnessed to had been definitely caused by him and his so sudden arrival.  
  
Maybe Adam hadn’t asked him to leave yet because he was afraid Nigel would spy on him, _quite offensive,_ Nigel frowned at his own thought, _I might not be exactly the perfect example of Honorable Warrior, but that didn’t mean I'm an asshole and definitely not a fucking rat._ He needed to think about a plan, he couldn’t keep living forever in Adam’s closet, and this plan had to be completely safe for his strange roommate, he would make sure that Adam’s complicity stayed in the darkness, he thought, determinate in his decision.  
  
Adam woke him up a few hours later. Nigel hadn’t even realized he had fallen asleep, the high and unsure voice of Adam calling him entered in the fog of his light sleep and finally the touch of a hand had made him jump. He found himself showing his teeth with a low growl, Adam step back.  
  
“Nigel, I’m having lunch in four minutes.” the Vulcan informed him with his little soldier manners.  
  
Nigel watched at him still not fully awake and only after a few moments his brain made the connection. Adam had actually woken him up to have lunch together.  
  
“Fine, I’ll get whatever you get.” he said, feeling too lazy to ask the menu, turning his back, craving to steal a few seconds more of sleep. Without saying anything else, the Vulcan left the room. Nigel laid on the bed for a few minutes before he managed to convince himself to finally get up.  
  
When he entered in the other room, his chair had returned to the table, and Adam was serving a plate of a yellow stuff he had never seen before and a glass of beer in front of it. Nigel smiled, his roommate was starting to know him quickly.

“What is this stuff?” Nigel asked staring at his plate with a curious expression while taking seat.  
  
  
“It’s a terrestrial meal, it’s called Mac and Cheese.” Adam answered already sticking his fork into various smoking hot macaroni and eating them in one bite. Nigel smiled at the happiness that the food seemed to provoke in him. The klingon, had learned to not have prejudices about food a time ago, so without any other question, he imitated the Vulcan. The food wasn’t bad at all, quite different from any other food he had ever ate even if it wasn’t so peculiar.  
  
“Do you only eat terrestrial food?” Nigel asked with chewing the pasta.  
  
Adam swallowed “My mother died when I was very young, my father never liked Vulcan cuisine so we always had only this.”  
  
“What about you, do you like Vulcan cuisine?”

Adam lowed his eyes “I only eat this.” he repeated, studying Nigel to see his reaction “I eat Classic Corn Flakes as breakfast, Mac and Cheese at lunch.” he said, usually people at this laughed at him, or worst they asked him why, they never get the reason so they tried to convince him to eat something else, the simple thought of not eating the right food made him upset and sick, but people didn’t get that either. It wasn’t lunch without Mac and Cheese, it wasn’t breakfast without Corn Flakes.  
  
He shifted uncomfortably on his chair, he didn’t like that conversation. Nigel was devouring the Mac and Cheese, he was rising a taste for it already. He saw Adam’s discomfort, and since he seemed to wait for an answer he commented, desiring to avoid any dramatic situation.

“You know, this stuff is actually fucking good.”  
  
Adam looked at him, his eyes brightening with amusement and relief. He smiled. And Nigel realized that was the first time he had seen a Vulcan smiling, more importantly, that was the first time he had seen Adam smiling. He really had a beautiful smile.

 


	3. Chapter 3

The afternoon was almost as tedious as the morning, Adam returned to his calculus, Nigel at least managed to discover that the ship was going to do a stop at Tau Ceti Station. He knew a few friends there, and by friend he meant people who didn’t want him dead or have not interest in his capture, getting a ship wouldn’t be so difficult with a right exchange. The bad news was, without any problem, the stop wouldn’t happen for two weeks, and according to Adam, there were always problems. But at least that gave Nigel a more clear idea of his future, two weeks wasn’t such a long time after all.  
  
For the rest of the day, Nigel indolently read some random information, jumping from a voice to another in the computer memory, observing all the curious objects neatly accumulated in the room, playing a little replicating random food and drinks. He had already learned that Adam while working wasn’t in the same room as him, he was there only physically, but he clearly was so focused that he did not actually see or hear him, so Nigel didn’t even attempt the frustrating task of trying to get his attention.  
  
During dinner Nigel asked him if he had discovered something interesting, Adam this time didn’t hult his speech about space, he talked excitedly for the entire meal and even after, showing Nigel charts and intricate formulas. Nigel smiled at him, he wasn’t understanding much of the flux of words, but he didn’t interrupt him, he cleaned the table, dumping the dishes in the replicator and asking for another beer.  
  
Adam stopped talking eventually, informing it was time for him to go to bed.  
  
  
“Do you sleep every night? I thought Vulcan didn’t sleep.” Nigel asked while observing the drop of beer remaining in the bottom of his glass.  
  
“No brain would be able to function correctly without sleeping. Vulcans don’t need to sleep so often, but I always sleep at this time.”  
  
  
“Do you mind if I sleep in your bed? The floor is fucking uncomfortable besides being humiliating as hell.”  
  
“I sleep in my bed.” Adam said dry, thinking about how could Hell be humiliating and recalling all he knew about it in both human and klingon mythologies, he knew it was only a common saying, but his mind inevitable fell in trying to figure out the literal meaning.  
  
“I meant with you” Nigel sighed, after the phrase had went out his mouth he realized how ambiguous it could be. He was asking him to sleep together, and using the fact of not wanting to sleep on the floor as an excuse, that sounds ridiculous and clumsy underhand. He started to wonder if the whole not-inebriating synthehol campaign wasn’t a fraud.  
  
“Sorry, it’s probably asking too much, I mean you’re already risking your ass keeping me here, I’m not exactly in the position to ask for favors to you. Forget about it.” Nigel tried to fix it, feeling stupider at any word coming out quickly from his mouth.  
  
“I can’t forget about it, you just told me. Besides I don’t mind if you sleep with me.” The Vulcan said, ticking his head a little. “Actually I found last night quite pleasant.”  
  
They slept as the day before, Adam hugged Nigel. He found pleasant to have someone to embrace, usually he found unpleasant most of the physical contacts. He could feel the ghost of an unwanted touch for long time, burning over his skin, he felt so annoyed by it, he usually tried to stroke it away, scratching it, complaining the fact that he still could feel it. But fortunately that kind of contact didn’t bother him, quite the opposite, he found that relaxing, even when Nigel, as the night before, started to pass his hand in his hair. Adam felt shivers running from his scalp through his body, and the purring vibrating from his throat. Nigel chuckled when the sound started to fill the room again. Adam never thought it was anything funny about purring, but Nigel seemed to think it was funny. He was starting to get used to Nigel, despite all, he wasn’t confusing his day too much.  
  


* * *

 

  
“Nigel? Nigel, wake up.  
“The hell Adam, is still night…” the Klingon muttered, his voice still dried out from the sleep.

  
“I want to show you something.” The high and awaken voice said excited.  
  
“I’m sleeping.”   
  
There was a pause. Nigel had no idea what time it was, definitely not 7:00 and even if it was, he didn’t fucking care, he couldn’t even open his eyes, and as soon the silence fell he drowned in his sweet unconsciousness again.  
  
“No, you are not. You _were_ sleeping, you _are_ talking to me now.” The Vulcan corrected. “I want to show you something.” Adam repeated, shaking him a little.  
  
Nigel chuckled “Fine, fine, I’m awake, what do you want to show me in the middle of the night?”  
  
“It’s not night, that is the point.” Adam said rapidly while he stand up “It’s not night, is not morning either. Between the night turn and the morning turn there are two hours of gap, so it’s not night and it’s not morning, since we haven’t a star as reference people’s work turn are the only parameter to say if it’s day or night.”  
  
Nigel was sitting, his eyes felt heavy and dry, he had no idea of what the Vulcan was babbling about but that didn’t sound like something he should care about.  
  
  
“Come with me.” Adam said exiting from the bedroom. Nigel rolled his eyes but then he followed his strangely excited companion.

  
When Adam crossed the living room and opened the door, Nigel stopped, suddenly awake. “Adam, I’m a fugitive, I can’t fucking stroll around the ship, I'm not a fucking tourist in a fucking cruise vacation.”  
  
“I know, Starfleet Ships don’t do touristic service. Why are you telling me that?” The Vulcan said, innocently amused by Nigel strange observation.

“Why are you asking me to go outside? I’ll get caught.” Nigel said, quite more louder than he intended to, worried and quite hurt by that ambush in the middle of the night, Adam could at least have the decency to wait the morning to kick him out.   
  
  
“I told you, we are in the _not-morning-not-night hours._ This is the time interval the ship is mostly empty. I want to show you something.” Adam explained, tilted his head at Nigel’s strangely higher voice, it wasn’t loud enough to hurt him but it was slightly annoying and distracting. Nigel frowned, studying Adam, he had said he couldn’t lie, but all Vulcans said that, even if Nigel knew very well they were able to lie like every other species in the Universe. But he had no reason not to trust Adam, so he followed him out of the room.  
  
The Vulcan brought him through numerous hallways, walking rapidly. Nigel was right behind him, in alert, checking at every turn, getting startled at every sound. But the hallways were desolated, as Adam had said, and the only sound was the soft sound of the engines working.  
  
When Adam climbed quite clumsily in what looked like an air vent, Nigel surrendered to the curiosity of what was so important to him and started to forget about the risk. They crawl in the tunnels for a while and finally Adam forced a panel. He looked so happy and proud of what he was doing. He climbed out and Nigel followed him.  
  
  
A garden surrounded them, a variety of plants of different colors and shape, all ordered in their pots. Adam walked through them, Nigel followed him in the soft light that was supposed to simulate the moonlight. Adam arrived in the spot he desired and sat in the metallic floor, making sign to Nigel to do the same. The Klingon obeyed. They were at the feet of one of the biggest plants, a skinny tree whose leaves almost reached to touch the floor.  
  
  
“Adam, the fuck is this place?” He asked whispering, unreasonably afraid to break the solid silence of the place.  
  
  
“It’s the botanic collection. But keep quite.” The Vulcan said bringing his finger to the mouth, signing silence, in such an unnatural and clearly forced way that Nigel snorted suppressing the violent laugh.  
  
  
“I am serious, please don’t make noises.” said Adam smiling, Nigel used to laugh at things he didn’t find funny, but he never seemed to mock him.  
  
  
A rattling sound hushed Nigel immediately, the fear rise again, his body got rigid.  
  
  
“Look.” Adam whispered pointing in front of him.  
  
Nigel cursed in his teeth as he saw a fat little animal scampering on the metal floor. He got close to one of plants, stopping to sniff around, looking suspicious in their direction with its little eyes shining in the moonlight. Another one appeared, stopping close its fellows.  
  
  
“What the fuck…” was all Nigel managed to say.  
  
“They are the other stowaways on the ship.” Adam said “I used to come here because it’s quite. And I met them.”  
  
“How the fuck is possible? We are on a starship.” Nigel said, looking shocked the two little animals.  
  
“They are not supposed to be here, but here they are.” Adam said, he was calmly serious now, looking at the dormice, who had clearly decided to ignore them, and kept appearing and disappearing scrambling, followed by the metallic sound of their little paws.  
  
Nigel looked at him. He never thought that Adam might feel lonely, but now it was evident he was lonely, in a ship full of people. And so was he in the end, alien on a ship where he didn’t belong to. The Klingon reached for the Vulcan’s hand and squeezed it. Adam didn’t try to break free.

 


	4. Chapter 4

The next days followed one another without any change in Adam’s perfectly structured routine, while Nigel tried not to die of boredom, even if Adam assured him that boredom wasn’t a medical proven cause of death. They slept together every night and ate each meal together, Nigel always d sacrificed his sleep to wake up early in order for them to have breakfast together, afterwards he returned to lay on the bed in an indolent nap that devoured most of his mornings.  
  
Adam rarely left the room, just for a few hours, to give his weekly report or to communicate some important discover. He returned from those short trips more tired that Nigel had ever seen, empty and without any strength or energy left. He just laid in the bed, doing the same gesture Nigel had seen him doing that very first night, asking Nigel some time alone, “I need to rest for a while” he said once, almost screaming, he was tired, he didn’t want to talk, he wanted just everyone and everything to shut up.  
  
Nigel apprehensively asked if something was wrong, he asked if someone had done something to him, feeling his blood seething with anger against that nonexistent ghost, he would beat them to the ground, make them pay, whoever they were. But Adam just repeated his request of rest in solitude and Nigel just gave up. For the first time, Nigel ate alone, staring the wall, waiting impatiently for any sign of life from his roommate.  
  
Adam laid for hours trying to shut the memories of voices, faces, eyes, lights and all the details that crowded his head, they screamed loudly in his brain, he could still see every room he had to stay into, that overwhelming quantity of information that wasn’t letting him think. He had always been like that, leaving his safe place, where all had been recorded and never changed was always an immense fatigue, and besides now he wasn’t even alone there. He liked Nigel’s company after all, but returning home to hear another voice, to have to reunite those sounds to understand what he was telling him in the confusion of his mind and compose a simple phrase was heavy and drained his already poor energies.  
  
When he was a child he used to hide under his blanket, trying to making the whole loud world to disappear, sometimes he got up only when the night had already fallen, and the desert surrounding his house was quiet and dark, stars shining shyly in the sky. The calm of those stars filling his soul had been the reason he had wanted to go there, now he could see the stars anytime he wanted to, he studied them, discovering new ones, some whose light won’t probably ever arrive to shine in his home planet’s sky.  
  
  
How could he let this happen, let a stranger in, and despite he did feel tired sometimes, the need to cut the other out of the picture for a while impelling, he also was getting used to Nigel’s company. He wanted to embrace him in his sleep and eat with him. He didn’t want that new part of his day to change, even if Nigel’s voice got stuck in his head like everyone else’s disturbing his thoughts, even if he could feel his skin burning against his during the night. When finally his thoughts got less frenetic and his head became calm, even if still felt weird, like the air returning quite after a violent storm, he opened his eyes. The stars were unchanged shining in the darkness of his window.

  
When Adam entered the living room, Nigel stood up, he was sitting at the little dining table, a cigarette smoking on an empty dish. The Vulcan tried to smile to him and headed to the replicator, asked for a tea. Nigel watched him, not sure if he was allowed to talk, for a change, Adam was the one that broke the silence  
  
“I’m sorry for my behavior before.” He said, he always had to apologize when he raised his voice, that was an unacceptable lack of control over his emotions, he never managed to be accepted to do the Kolinahr for episodes like that, he had been told he wasn’t a real Vulcan because of that.  
  
“I just get tired and upset when I stay around people for too long, my mind get overstimulated and confused.” Adam continued the formula that he usually used, he wondered if Nigel was mad at him, some people got mad at him.  
  
Nigel looked at him, Adam was staring at his tea, hypnotized by the turbines in it. During the forced silence he had felt mad, his preoccupation for Adam had slipped in anger and annoyance for the Vulcan’s refuse to talk to him, he had felt treated unfairly. He had waited for hours, worried, eating nervously, smoking and drinking after still hoping to get a bit drunk at least.  
  
“Fuck, Adam, I was fucking worried, the fuck is wrong with you.”  
Adam ducked his head, _what is wrong with you,_ how many times had he heard that. The sentence just sunk deeply into him, he clutched the warm mug in his hands. Nigel realized what he had done, the anger dissipated, he had just hurt the very person whom he had sworn to protect just a few hours ago. He sighed, taking the cigarette still slowly consumed on the dish, a part of him for stubborn proud refused to apologize.  
  
“I have Asperger Syndrome” Adam said rapidly. Nigel raised his eyebrow confused at the unknown words “Is it bad? That’s why you were upset? Are you ill?” His thoughts run while he was talking, his voice high in apprehension. Adam smiled at Nigel’s alarm, so evident that even him noticed “It’s not a disease, it’s a neurodivergency.”  
  
“How the fuck is that supposed to sound better.” said Nigel sincerely even if he couldn’t help smiling relieved seeing the Vulcan’s little smile.  
  
“It means my brain works differently from the most, in many ways, and I do need to do things that others usually don’t understand.” He explained, he didn’t list his encyclopedic knowledge about genetic and epigenetic theories, symptoms and history, he was starting to feel tired again and talking was getting more and more difficult and annoying.  
  
“But I’m not _wrong_ , I’m just different nor better nor worse.” He added firmly, frowning. That was his father told him, hundreds of times, he hadn’t realized why that formula was so important at first, he had learned later to read people disapproval and judgment. Nigel got serious, he stepped closer to him, “I fucking know you are not wrong, every fucking idiot would be able to see that.”  
  
Adam was still looking at his tea, he hadn’t touched it yet. “I’m tired, I’m going to sleep.”

Nigel looked at him, he still felt guilty and stupid for had touched so clumsily such a deep nerve in his beloved roommate. Since the Klingon didn’t comment, Adam asked “Are you going to sleep with me?” Nigel nodded grateful.

 


	5. Chapter 5

The day after Nigel tasted the waters carefully, observing Adam while he got up to start another day, he wanted to be sure the Vulcan wanted to talk, that he wasn’t tired anymore. He didn’t wish to force him in socializing with him. Adam enjoyed the silence, thinking with pleasure that today he would not have to leave his room.  
  
“Today is my day off.” He said, breaking the silence. Nigel relieved smiled at him.  
  
“And what do you do on your days off?” The Klingon asked, sure that Adam probably had a precise plan even for his holiday days.  
  
Adam pointed at the starships models, ordered in showcases against the wall behind him.  
  
“Actually I’d like to continue my work but Harlan made it clear ‘You need to rest, Adam, if you are not going to take a break I’ll arrest you for insubordination’” he said, imitating the more profound voice and posture of the other man, bending his voice to the stranger’s accent.  
  
“But he assured me he wasn’t serious about the arrest.” he clarified.  
  
“Who is Harlan?” Nigel asked laughing at the Vulcan’s imitation.  
  
“The Captain. He was a friend of my father, I knew him since I was a child.”  
“Mhm…what about those ships?” Nigel asked.  
  
Adam happily stood up, doing a little tour of his collection, explaining the history of each model, scales, edition and also a detailed description of the ships they represented, division, age, battles and discovers. It was the first time Nigel saw him getting excited for something different from space.  
  
“At the moment I’m working on this. It’s the USS Enterprise, NCC-1701, Constitution Class, Federation of United Planets, in service from 2245 to 2285.” he said extracting the model with extreme cure from its showcase.  
“It’s one of the most famous starships in Federal history and it had its golden age under the command of James T. Kirk and his First Officer Spock.” he added, looking at the incomplete model.  
  
  


“Oh I knew them by fame. Spock was a Vulcan, wasn’t him?” Nigel asked keeping eating breakfast.  
  
“Half-Vulcan half-human, actually” Adam corrected “Like me” he added quietly. “You know, he wasn’t considered a conventional Vulcan either.” he said almost shy in his deep admiration for his childhood hero.  
  
Nigel finished to eat the last pieces of bacon in his plate “Well sounds fun, can I help you?”

Adam shook his head with force “No, this is mine.” he said firmly still holding the model in his hands.

“But I can give you one all yours.” he added, trying to be conciliating. Nigel raised his shoulders, amused by the childish Adam’s attachment to his toys. That sounded more fun than getting bored all day anyway. He saw the Vulcan disappearing in his room and return to give him a little box with a little shuttlecraft pictured on it. The Vulcan had the delicacy to tell him he didn’t want it, it had been a Birthday present from one of his colleagues, it was of the wrong brand and it had rested abandoned in his closet for years since Harlan forbidden him to give it back and ask for the right one.  
  
They passed most of the day working on their little ships. Nigel managed to make the Vulcan smile various times, with his absolute lack of manual skills and patience. He cursed more in those hours than in all the days he had been there. Proud of having managed to summon Adam’s smile, Nigel started deliberately to clown around, making his little and badly built ship fly in the room, doing stupid noises. Adam smiled more openly and corrected the accuracy of his imitation.  
  
The day passed happily and cheerfully, Adam did very little of his precious ship, Nigel abandoned his still incomplete but already decorated with obscene scribbles, and at the Vulcan's accusation of “lack of historical accuracy” Nigel pointed that he thought _the ship was all his_ repeating Adam’s words with a smirk.  
  
That night they returned to Adam’s Special Place, as Nigel called the botanic garden, the Klingon asked to go there while he was falling asleep to the purring of Adam as lullaby.  
  
  
They sat at the feet of the same tree, Adam held Nigel’s hand. Nigel drowsy leaned his head on Adam’s shoulder, and the Vulcan took the chance to study with scientific curiosity Nigel’s forehead. He passed his finger on the ridges’ delicate drawing with extreme cure, studying it.  
  
  
“Are you half Klingon or less?” He asked, he wasn’t looking at him, Nigel had noticed that he didn’t always see what he was doing, his eye unfocused, only focusing completely on one sense, like hearing or in this case touching.  
  
“I’m not even sure, my mother wasn’t pure blood either, and I never knew who my father was, I don’t think that anybody knew or cared, anybody with enough money in their pockets could have been my dad.” He said closing his eyes, he was finding Adam’s delicate touch incredible pleasant and relaxing.  
  
  
“Did you start to steal when you were young?”  
  
“Yeah, you know, cheap stuff, easy targets, it was more like a game. Then things got serious. I had to left Kronos and I started to live where I could. I actually got some importance you know? Selling arms to the Maquis cause…” He started talking without processing first, just letting flowing “I always tried to have some form of morality anyway, I’m not such an asshole to sell guns to those fucking imperialists and even if the offers were good I never got my hands dirty with slaves’ trades or shit like that…”  
Adam was still touching with his delicate hands his forehead, passing over and over on the ridges, Nigel focused in that only keeping talking quite distracted and dizzy, “Drugs, guns, illegal cybernetic components, all things that I could sell easily in the black market, mostly stolen, sometimes robbed from abandoned star ships, or by scavenging like vultures the skeletons of the defeated ones.” Nigel fell in silent, he had even been in some federal ships a couple of times, fell in battle or victims of terrifying incidents, he had robbed the pale and dusty corpses of them, all dressed exactly as Adam was dressed every day.  
  
“I am not afraid of you.” Adam said suddenly, his high voice interrupted Nigel’s dark thoughts. Nigel opened his eyes surprised, he watched the Vulcan “You shouldn’t, I won’t hurt you, Adam.” he said, realizing only then how true that was.  
  
  
The silence fell again, Adam then resumed touching Nigel. He wondered if the Vulcan really liked his forehead, but he bit back any comment, he liked the sensation of that touch, he would not give Adam a reason to stop. He abandoned himself, feeling tired and sleepy. Adam’s hands had started passing through his hair and they were now touching the ridges running on his spine through the thin shirt he used as pajamas. He could feel his finger grabbing the little bone structures, memorizing their shape through the touch, vertebra after vertebra.

“Nigel, are you excited? I mean sexually.”  
  
Nigel again widened his eyes, he had started to feel vaguely aroused indeed. He stepped back suddenly awake and deadly ashamed “I’m sorry, I was practically asleep and your touch-” the sentence stayed incomplete, Nigel stopped himself, the obvious conclusion of the phrase unspoken, his confession sounding far louder he wanted to.  
  
“I was asking because I am not able to understand what others feel, when I was younger I’d probably assumed you were since I am, but I learned that is not true, so I was taught to ask.” Adam said confused by Nigel’s alarmed response.  
  
Nigel looked at him, Adam was watching nowhere, he had that lovely frowned expression he had so often, his hands suddenly unoccupied resting on his legs. Nigel grabbed his chin, he felt the Vulcan getting rigid at the unannounced touch, but Adam didn’t try to break free. Nigel leaned over and kissed him at the base of the neck, inhaling, unbelieving this was really happening, feeling his barely sketched erection getting harder and the blood pumping at Adam’s scent. Adam was still confused, the feeling of Nigel’s lips on his neck liberated cold excited shivers all over his body. He searched for Nigel’s lips and kissed them. He felt the Klingon’s slightly sharp teeth bite his lips, metallic flavor diffusing in his mouth, then Nigel licking the green blood away. Adam grabbed him, by his hair and by his shirt, wanting him closer, as close as possible. Nigel had left his mouth and returned to the neck, inhaling deeply, Adam could feel his teeth nibbling at his skin and his warm breath.

Slowly his breath calmed, he stayed there for a while, Adam still holding onto him.  
  
“We should return to the room.” Nigel said suddenly. Adam nodded and let him go.  
  
Returning to the bed for the few hours of sleep they still had, Adam fell asleep in Nigel’s arms. Nigel stared the darkness illuminated only by the little stars outside the window. He hadn’t dared to convince Adam bluntly to different sleeping arrangement. He really would have preferred resting in the floor after what happened, but as soon as they got in the room Adam had crawled in the bed and then waited for Nigel to join him. When the Klingon had tried to suggest otherwise the Vulcan had assumed a confused expression and said almost alarmed “But we _always_ sleep this way.” Nigel hadn’t the heart to say anything more and as soon as he had got in bed Adam relaxed had hugged him, already purring before Nigel had even touched him.  
  
He started to wonder since when the Vulcan had been attracted to him, and when he had started to feel the same. He had realized he liked him, he cared about Adam with no reason, he felt the need to protect him, he aches for his smiles, the meals in his company, and their nights whispering in the darkness of their Special Place had became his favorite parts of the day. He waited for them, almost impatiently, Adam had started to be the end of every thought.

The light in the room had started to gradually turning on, soft and yellow. Nigel watched the Vulcan, his head resting on his chest, his arms surrounding Nigel. He could see the little green mark he had left on his lips, his soft black curls and the pointed ears appearing from that mess, his breath regular and profound, his face angelically relaxed so peacefully immersed in the sleep. He was gorgeous, so little and beautiful.

 


	6. Chapter 6

At seven Adam’s routine started as usual, Nigel waited to him to finish showering and reappearing from the bathroom with his uniform, perfect as usual, while smoking a cigarette distractedly. Adam had started to talk about an idea he had had during the night, the flux of his agitated words continued, following Nigel through the living room and for a good part of the breakfast. Nigel as usual didn’t interrupt him, admiring Adam’s eyes shining with passion while rattling a series of mostly unknown words to Nigel’s ears. He stopped suddenly as usual, without giving a natural end to his speech, he had told all he needed to.  
  
“Adam, we need to talk.” Nigel said after a few seconds the silence had filled the room again.  
  
“About what?” Adam asked distractedly while sinking a corn flake in the milk with his spoon and watching it reappearing again, he seemed incredibly focused in that.  
  
“About what happened yesterday.”  
  
“A lot of things happened yesterday, you should be more specific, it’s a twenty-four hours interval of continuous events” Adam said still concentrated in his little game.  
  
“I meant the part where we confess to be sexually aroused and we fucking kiss” Nigel pointed, and even if he was trying to be serious he couldn’t help to find Adam’s way to think incredible.  
  
“Oh.” Adam said. Nigel sighed, he wasn’t used to discuss about these kind of things, his idea of romanticism was more “on the spite of the moment” kind of guy, but since he had to actually to live with Adam, and at the moment the Vulcan was the only person he had interactions with, he could not risk to mess it up.

  
“Are you my boyfriend now?” Adam’s high voice interrupted Nigel’s thoughts. The Vulcan was looking at his direction, his blue eyes not meeting his as usual.  
  
“I don’t fucking know, honestly.” Nigel said with a deep sigh. Adam tickled his head assuming that confused expression. Nigel grabbed his hand, squeezing it, Adam’s first reaction as always was to escape contact, but he relaxed in Nigel hand.

“Do you want me to be your boyfriend?” the klingon asked, more to make the other think than to receive an answer.

“I like what we did yesterday.” Adam confessed softly, his cheeks colouring of green, feeling the arousing diffusing again in his body while the memory revived in his head, feeling again the warmth of Nigel’s body against his, the cotton shirt and the Klingon’s soft hair, his vaguely musky scent.  
  
Nigel smiled at him, fighting the temptation to take him in his arms right immediately seeing the Vulcan blushing. “Yeah I liked that too.”  
  
  
  
“So we are in a sexual relationship.” Adam said with the same tone of a mathematician who has just concluded a logic demonstration.  
  
  
  


Nigel couldn’t answer to that, he watched the vulcan finishing rushy his breakfast and standing up to catch up with his routine.  
  
  
“Adam, please wait.” Nigel asked, more firmly he intended to. The Vulcan emitted a low moaning, thinking anxiously he was late, but he obeyed, he sat rigidly moving his hands nervously. “Have you ever been in a romantic relationship before?”  
  
Adam nodded looking away, his eyes scattering, in his head the need to return to his day order was growing.  
  
“Her name was Beth, we stayed together 3 months, 1 week and 6 days, while I was studying at the Academy, she worked in a school in San Francisco. She left me because I never said I loved her looking her in the eyes, but I did love her” he said rapidly repeating the only farewell phrase he had received from Beth before she abandoned him, leaving him in the dark of his cadet room confused, his things neatly packed surrounding him. It had been right before he had to finally leave the Earth to take service on the ship, he had asked Beth to come with him, she could do the same job, teaching in the school of the ship, she had said she would, but she didn't.  
  
The klingon was watching him surprised. The Vulcan emitted another moan “Nigel, please, I need to work now.” he lamented shifting uncomfortably on his chair. “Yeah, sure, sorry babe.” Nigel said still thinking about what Adam had said, saying distractedly the affectionate epithet. Adam however didn’t comment, he immediately stand up visibly more relaxed already.  
  
  
Minutes later the flurry of Adam’s writing filled the room. Nigel sat smoking a cigarette. Maybe Adam was right, they don’t have so much to discuss now, they liked each other, that was all it had happened till now. The klingon brought the cigarette at his mouth again. He thought about what Adam had said, he had been left because of how he was, because he didn’t see the point to say _I love you_ even if he did love. Nigel wondered how many times the young man had been abandoned yet. _I’m not wrong, I’m just different_. He looked at him, head bowed on a D-pad, the pen running on it.  
  
The morning passed slowly. For once Adam couldn’t feel completely focused on his work, he found himself staring at the intricate formulas and at the elegant graphics without really seeing them. His mind kept falling in the previous night and in the morning conversation. He was starting to feel tired, his job seemed pointless. As the first night he started to feel lost, afraid of what he had done, another change in his so neat life, another variable he wasn’t sure how to face. He had felt so lonely when Beth had left him, he was still confused about what he had done to deserve to be abandoned, maybe he just wasn’t able to have a relationship. Doubts, fear and confusion raise in his head, choking his breath, he couldn’t do that again. He crashed the D-pad against the table, the display crushed, breaking in a cobweb shaped fracture. Adam rest his head on the table.  
  
Nigel had returned in bed right after breakfast. Adam found him sleeping, in bed, shirtless as every morning, his body disorderly abandoned in bed. The Vulcan looked at him for a moment, unsure about what he wanted to do, he thought about waking him up, but he didn’t want to talk, he had came there because he had felt so lonely, the effort to rise his head from the table and moving to the room had been titanic.  
  
Nigel woke up when he felt the bed moving, alarmed, the fear immediately shouted by the familiar sound of Adam’s purring. The Vulcan squeezed himself in Nigel’s arms, rubbing his hair against Nigel’s neck, like a cat and embracing him in his usual kind and strong grip.  
  
“Didn’t you have to work?” asked Nigel still half asleep, not as a venous comment for how Adam had cut their conversation, a genuine question, Adam never went off his order, that was unusual. Adam didn’t answer, grabbing the klingon in his arms, breathing deeply, he sobbed quietly. He felt so sad and tired so suddenly, he didn’t want to talk or move.  
  
  


“Hey, you okay?” Nigel asked, striking Adam’s back. The Vulcan kept in his silence. Nigel lent and kissed him on the top of his head.  
  
By lunch time Adam still didn’t move. Nigel glared at the clock near the bed. The Vulcan always searched for him at the same time, to call him for lunch. Nigel saw that hour passing on the display.  
  
“Adam” he called. The Vulcan didn’t move, he wasn’t sleeping, just staying with his eyes opened, not seeing anything, quiet and still. He had sobbed for a few minutes, without crying, after that he had just laid there, the empty sadness and apathy was still poisoning him.  
“Adam, don’t you want to eat?” When Adam didn’t answer, Nigel shook him softly, “Come on Adam, aren’t you hungry?” At Nigel’s intents to make him getting up, Adam emitted a long moan. The Klingon stopped immediately, that sound so unnatural and weird coming from a person was almost disturbing.  
  
“I can bring you something, I’ll bring you your mac and cheese.” Nigel whispered in the Vulcan’s ear, a bit worried by Adam’s strange reaction. Adam again stayed silent. Nigel sighed, giving up he started to stroke Adam’s hair again. They laid there for a long time.  
  
Adam all sudden had left his grip, turned his back and laid far from Nigel, near to the window. Nigel touched his shoulder. “Are you feeling better?” The Vulcan nodded. Nigel felt relieved by finally receiving an answer, he decided to push a little more “Would you like some Vulcan tea?” There was a long silence, then Adam nodded again. Nigel stand up, stretching a little torpid by the long rest. He thought on asking Adam if he wanted something to eat, since they had both skipped lunch, but he didn’t want to push the Vulcan to talk and Adam’s tastes were so specific that he couldn’t guess either. He knew that Vulcans could live for days without eating or even feel hunger, he wonder if it was true, his Klingon stomach had been protesting for hours.  
  
He went to the bathroom first, he hadn’t dared to leave Adam before. He washed his face with cold water, _what a hell of morning,_ he thought looking at his face, still padded by the infinite sleepy morning that had silently slipped in afternoon and was almost turning in night.  
  
He returned to the bedroom, Adam hadn’t moved, still curled by the window.  
  
Arrived in the living room, Nigel notice the little pieces of glass on the floor, almost stepping in them with his bare foot, he glared confused at the destroyed D-pad on Adam’s desk. A deep worry sunk in him, he wonder why Adam was so weird, thinking about that time he had refused to talk for the whole day. Maybe he was having the same thing, whatever that was. Nigel cleaned the remains of the D-pad and dumped them in the replicator staring at them disappearing in a cloud of light.  
  
He returned to the room, waking slowly and carefully to not spill the hot tea in his hand, some biscuits in the other. He had ordered some terrestrial ones, plain enough to seem at least vaguely in accord to Adam’s tastes. Maybe the Vulcan would feel hungry seeing him eating.  
  
“Here your Vulcan tea, sir, tasteless as you people like.” Nigel said, pretending to be a waiter in some fancy restaurant, smiling at his own stupidity.  
  
Adam sat up, grabbing the tea that Nigel was handing him. “Thank you.” he said feeble, not commenting Nigel’s joke, looking away and head low. The Klingon smiled at him, happy to hear that high voice again. They sat, Adam sipping his tea, Nigel eating the biscuits, he had offered them to Adam but the Vulcan had simply shook his head, so the Klingon had to eat those insipid, sandy things. Fortunately he was hungry enough to not complain.  
  
Adam was slowly emerging from his lethargic state, getting more and more conscious of what happened, where he was, who was with him. He apologized shyly to Nigel for his behavior, as the other time.  
  
Nigel grabbed him, almost making him spill his hot tea, surrounding his cincture, kissing him on the base of the neck, the same point he had bit just the previous night. “Why do you apologize, Adam?” he whispered.

“Because it’s a lack of self discipline.” answered the Vulcan. Little statics run over his body, a little part of him wanted to avoid contact but he got closer to the other instead.  
  
  
He had been taught to apologize, he remembered the rage that used to fill his chest when he was a child, he destroyed things, screaming. If that was considered almost forgivable when he was a child, it had become completely unacceptable as he grew up, he remembered the frowned faces in disapproval of both Vulcans and Humans. That desperation used to start even for very little things, that he saw enormous, problems that others didn’t even see to him were black holes with no solution, stealing his energy, making him mad, confused, lost. The training for the emotions purge had helped him but he still lost control so easily, sometimes he couldn’t even explain why, sometimes he didn’t even try to.  
  
  
Nigel kept kissing him. “I don’t want you to fucking apologize.” Adam tickled his head a little but he didn’t say anything, he let his tea on the table near the bed.  
  
Adam’s hand went down, he touched Nigel’s bland arousal, getting hard at Adam’s contact trough the pants. He started rubbing it, slowly and with force, provoking a loud moan from the Klingon. Nigel let a course go when he felt Adam’s cold hand entering in his pants. The Vulcan thin hand grabbed his cock, hard already, and Adam started to stroke it. The Vulcan had get closer to him, Nigel offering his neck, searching for air, Adam kissed it, immersing himself in it, while his hand moved more and more faster. Nigel leant on Adam curls, so soft, lavender scented hair, his mouth opened breathing irregularly. He could feel Adam’s erection, the idea was driving him insane, stealing his breath, desiring more of him. He returned to Adam’s neck, the Vulcan rested his head on his shoulder, ansimating against Nigel’s chest. Nigel could feel his cock pulsating, so close to the orgasm, he smelt Adam pale skin, unusually hot at the contact, he bit hard in it, he felt the blood spilling.

The Klingon came hard and fast, with low growl, his teeth still in Adam’s flesh, clamping even more as the orgasm released his body, on Adam’s hand. They both fell exhausted, ansimating, flushed, they both abandoned their bodies on the bed.

“What the fuck, Adam” said Nigel caressing his hair, trying in vain to calm down his breath.

“I just wanted to say thank you.” Adam said, answering the question Nigel was trying to compose. Nigel laughed loudly, beneath his teeth “If that’s how Vulcans say thank you, I really need to pay your planet a visit.”

“That’s not how Vulcans say thank you and visiting Vulcan while you are wanted there would be illogical.” Nigel was still laughing.

“And to anyone else I’d just say thank you and send the proper gift according to the occasion and relationship. I did this to you because you’re my boyfriend and I saw in many holonovels that this is a way to say thank you in sexual relationships.” At this Nigel’s laugh got even more unrestrained, his open laugh filled the room, of all things he wouldn’t ever imagined Adam seeing porn holonovels and learning protocols from them, then tell that with such a serious and natural tone.

“And why did you need to thank me?” Nigel said when he could finally breath a little, still semi laughing.

“For staying with me and not getting mad at me.” Adam answered wondering what had made Nigel laugh so much.

At this Nigel shouted the remains of laughter, he grabbed Adam’s hands. He couldn’t think on how answer that verbally, he would had liked to make Adam feel safe and less lonely. He grabbed Adam’s chin, observing the circled blood drops on his neck. “We should medicate that.”

Adam told him he had an emergency kit in the bathroom’s locker, he avoided to go to the infirmary unless it was really necessary so he always had some medical devices in his room. Nigel returned to the bed holding the little metal box, he stopped Adam to do anything “I’ll do it” he said gently.

The Vulcan sat rigidly, like a good schoolboy, obediently offering his neck. Nigel cleaned the wound first, dark green blood spotted the gauze. It wasn’t so profound as he was afraid it to be. When he picked up the tool to cauterize, a little almost magic device that would reconstructed the damaged skin in seconds, Adam stopped him, “I don’t want you to use that, just put a plaster.”

At Nigel clearly reticent look, the Vulcan elaborated better: “I know why you did it, Klingons bite their partner to mark them, wouldn’t be inappropriate to make your mark disappear so quickly?” Nigel scoffed putting the device back in the box “You have also Klingon porn in your holonovels database?” he asked grinning naughtily at the Vulcan.

“No, I read the mating costumes of Klingons after I got sexually aroused thinking about you for the first time.” Adam explained with the same plain tone. Nigel wonder if he really had no idea of what was considered private or he simply didn’t care. The klingon finished to stick the plaster on Adam’s skin, he leant and kissed it.

“When did you read those files?” he asked whispering gently in the pointed ear.

“Ten days and eleven hours ago.” Adam answered, remembering when he had for the first time thought about Nigel that way, and he had touched himself in the shower, imagining it was Nigel’s hand the one stroking him and Nigel’s warmth the one surrounding him.  
  
Nigel counted in his head, the days were confused one with another in his head. That would be the morning after the very first time they had gone to the Garden, where Adam had indirectly confessed him he was lonely and Nigel had grabbed his hand feeling lonely as well. And only then Nigel realized that he was supposed to leave Adam very soon to return to his solitary strolling in space.

 


	7. Chapter 7

_*Captain’s Log, Stardate 48260.88001014705._

_The fugitive is still running free on the ship. Recent investigations done by the security chief Lieutenant Garcia, has spotted some irregularities in Lieutenant Raki’s consumption of energy, as well as periodical smoke detection. The evidence for now is not enough to justify an inspection of Mr. Raki’s apartment, considering the particular condition of the Lieutenant. In order to avoid causing him extra, unjustified stress, I have instead ordered that his room be watched.*_

 

Harlan listened to his voice recorded on the computer with a long sigh. He had refused to do any report on Adam while the evidence was uncertain, but the changes in Adam’s previously regular consumption were, in fact, suspicious. Any other person usually had a very irregular usage of the replicator, but not Adam, he repeated day after day exactly the same. The changes weren’t enough to violate his privacy and control what he had replicated, or at least that’s what Harlan repeated to himself.

 

When the criminal had disappeared, as the days passed the doubt that someone had hidden and helped him had changed to certainty, and that alone was a huge wound in the Federation’s perfect reputation. Maybe the fugitive had threatened a family or, in the worst case someone had been corrupted, the fugitive was known for being a charming liar. The first hypothesis had died soon though – even if he was dangerous there was no way he could keep hostages for so long with nobody noticing– so now the search for the fugitive had become a hunt for the traitor among the crew. Harlan had never thought that Adam might be involved in this story, but reading the report that Garcia had so diligently redacted, however much the Captain tried to deny it, the proof was there. The neat graphics having completely random spikes, more similar to everyone’s else graphics. And then the smoke detector: Adam never burned candles and now all of a sudden he seemed to do it at least four times a day.

 

These weren’t crimes or rule infractions, it was just curious, but living on a Starship was worse than living in some small village in the middle of nowhere and the community had already decided where the criminal was and who his accomplice was. And even Harlan, especially since he knew Adam so well, had started unfortunately to believe in Adam’s guilt.

 

But, despite that, he didn’t do anything. In fact, he reprimanded any comments about it made behind Adam’s back, and harshly scolded people who dared to make ill-concealed comments in front of the boy, who frowned, confused by the hidden meaning in those ambiguous words.

 

Harlan couldn’t even think about what could happen to Adam if he were indeed found guilty of high treason; he would have to go to prison, and despite all the attentions they would have for his needs, the simple thought made Harlan sick. He sighed again; how could Adam had done this, be so stupid, Harlan decided he would strangle the boy even before the Trial. The reasons behind Adam’s behavior had always been a mystery, so unpredictable and following rules alien to everyone else, but this was insane even for him.

 

He remembered when he asked to have Adam assigned to his ship, partially to do a favor to his father, but also because Adam was probably the best astrophysicist in the whole Fleet. Paternal feelings towards the boy had risen, especially after his father death. He couldn’t believe that the boy who asked with shining eyes what he had seen in his travels when he was only a child, ignoring his father’s request to let the guest breathe first at least, the same boy he had watched with a heart full of pride, like only a father can be proud of his own son, the day he had graduated from the Officers Academy, the only one who was still wearing the cadet uniform since he hadn’t had enough time to get used to the new one, _and it was itchy_ , that kid had betrayed him and all he had sworn to protect in such a cruel way.

A direct question would be enough to know the truth, but he hadn’t yet called him into his office, he hadn’t asked explanations about the changes and the smoke. With heavy heart he had pretended that nothing had happened and he let Adam speak about his work, trying to see any sign in the Vulcan of something different, fear or worry that would at least mitigate his role in helping a criminal. **  
**

* * *

  
The chirping of the doorbell interrupted Adam and Nigel’s breakfast. Nigel eyes widened and he looked, lost, at Adam. In a matter of seconds both his plate and any evidence of his presence were gone, before Adam opened the door.

“Good morning, Harlan,” the Vulcan said. Even if it was Harlan he couldn’t help feeling nervous and somehow violated by the sudden and unexpected invasion of his house.

“Were you sleeping?” the older man asked, trying to spy into the room, furtively.

“No, it’s seven and forty two minutes, I always wake up at seven,” Adam answered, tilting his head a little; Harlan knew that.

 

Harlan took a deep breath. “I mean, _you took your time to answer the_ _door._ ” he clarified-

“I wasn’t expecting visits today,” Adam answered. Not a lie: his only disciplinary reports had been for refusing to answer to the door or to the communicator because he wasn’t expecting them and he didn’t like surprises, especially if they involved social interaction.

 

“I’m sorry Adam, may I come in?” the captain said. He wouldn’t want to play on his rank or impose his authority, he and Adam had always kept an informal relationship, another reason to everyone to not like Adam. He had tried to explain to the boy that they could be informal when they were alone and use the protocol when they were working, but he didn’t seem to get the sense of such a duality. Adam shifted unsure on his feet, he did not know about this visit, he had not planned it, but in the end he stepped back, letting the Captain in.

 

“Would you like something to eat or drink?” Adam asked with his mechanical manners.

“A coffee please,” Harlan said, searching for any changes in the neat room.

Adam grabbed Nigel’s chair, which had been rudely thrown toward his desk, and put it back at the table. He served the coffee to the Captain and then he returned to his cereal.

 

Nigel, hidden in the bedroom, had his ear against the door, desperately trying to get any signal of alarm over the deafening beating of his heart. The only thing he could think about was his promise to get Adam out safe and clean from the whole situation.

 

Harlan was still studying the room, searching for any sign of alien presence. He hoped that Adam would make him a sign, say that the criminal was keeping him hostage or anything at all, but the young man was distractedly eating his cereal.

 

Harlan cleared his voice.

“Adam, is there something you wanted to tell me?”

Adam looked at him, frowning. “You’re the one who knocked at the door, shouldn’t be you the one who wants to tell me something?”

 

Harlan tried to keep his patience. “So nothing happened to you?” he tried to push a little more. “And don’t even try to say that a lot of things happened because time is a continuum of events.” Harlan said, nipping the Vulcan answer in the bud.

 

At the frowning expression appearing again, Harlan sighed, deciding to go with a more direct approach. “Are you aware that a criminal is aboard, still free?”

Adam felt his stomach contort, the bite mark burning right under the collar of his uniform. “Yes, I’m aware.”

“He is dangerous, Adam, a merciless criminal, blatant liar, who is wanted for murder, robbery, smuggling and scams, among other things.”

“Yes, I heard that.” Adam said, his voice not revealing the hell he was going through.

Harlan knew, he was testing him, obviously enough for him to notice, not directly enough to accuse him. Harlan was observing him, praying to hear his voice telling him that the criminal hadn’t given him a choice. But the Vulcan was closed off in his stoicism, his eyes wandering the room.

Without even finishing his coffee, Harlan left. On the doorstep, just before leaving, he added, “Don’t trust a liar.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

“He knows everything.” Nigel sighed. As soon as Harlan had left the room Adam had gone in his bedroom and repeated everything to Nigel, while they cuddled a little on the bed.  
  
The thought was born in Nigel’s mind so suddenly: to bring Adam away with him, on his ship. Not as a criminal, he wouldn’t ever let the boy getting in nasty affairs, he would be free to continue his work, he’d bring him wherever he wanted to go, they could stay together, like they were in that moment, just a dream of them waking up in their own ship, one in each other’s arms, staying there lazily for hours before getting up, cuddling while Adam purred. It was a sweet thought that made brighter his future. He didn’t tell Adam his silly dream. He saw the Vulcan getting up and going to the living room.

Nigel smoked a cigarette, he needed to concentrate now, he needed something valuable to exchange with a ship, a new and certainly not visible way out Adam’s apartment and get to know how many days he had. He had slept sweetly cradled by his overwhelming newborn love for Adam for too long, like an emotional adolescent in his first love story, it was time to return to reality. For the merch, it wouldn’t be so difficult, Federals always sit in their mountain of gold, without even guard it, guns, replicators, dilithium were all valuable enough to get a passage within his fame and money.

  
He exhaled the last cloud of smoke. He had to leave his lovely, quiet and neat nest to return to his violent, sleazy and squalid world, he thought, extinguishing the cigarette, dumping it in the bottom of water still in his glass, near the plate that he'd had to bring into the bedroom in his rush. He laid on the bed, staring disconsolately at the ceiling. He really had to leave Adam. Again his mind fell to the idea of him and Adam living together: he would show him the few beautiful things he knew, Andoria’s ice monument sculptures and labyrinth caves, where the Andorian cities had forked in infinite branches.

He could see Adam, with his nose and pointed ears green from the cold, the condensation diffusing in the frozen air from his mouth, smiling and talking under a woollen scarf, admiring the white crystal iced desert and the frigid stars shining above them. He imagined himself kissing the soft curls of the Vulcan, hugging the young man through the heavy coat. That looked like a place Adam would love, similar to Vulcan and opposite at the same time, not chaotic and it was easy to get to a lonely and calm place. They would eat there, bringing Adam’s food, sitting in the cold night, Adam laughing happily, his voice breaking the silence of the desert.  
  
  


He shook his head, finally getting up. He found Adam in the living room, working as every day. He wondered if the Vulcan was worried as much as him, studying the inexpressive face, intent on his work. **  
**  
  
That night, in the not-night-not-morning hours, Nigel sneaked out of the bed. He ignored Adam’s requests to not go alone since the chances of getting caught were too high, now that they knew that the Captain knew.

“I studied the ship's plans all day, dear, don’t worry, I’ll return. Just sleep.” Adam sadly nodded, watching his roommate leave. He waited in the darkness, his bed suddenly empty and seeming so big now; he had never been particular good at imagining events, he really found it difficult to do so, too many variables and details to think about, but he knew that the chances of Nigel getting caught were high indeed. A pretty elementary computation could tell him that it was actually surprising that Starfleet security hadn’t discovered them already.

He wondered if Harlan was mad at him; he hadn’t really thought about his possible reaction, maybe he should apologize, send a gift, try to explain his actions, even if he really had no explanation. He thought about how Harlan had called Nigel a liar. Adam didn’t like liars, Vulcans always said that lying was illogical, a temporary way of avoiding a problem or an emotional attempt not to hurt someone else’s feelings, a very non-constructive way to proceed. He didn’t lie for the same reason he didn’t imagine events, too many variables, and lying without being able to create an alternative to reality was impossible; as for the second possibility, he was simply unable to understand when he was supposed to. He remembered Harlan and his father scolding him and asking him to apologize to someone he had inadvertently hurt with unkind and therefore inappropriate comments.

He always found it strange that people lied so easily and how it was normal to do so: how can they even trust each other if they were all able to create new and reliable realities in such a short time, smiling or crying on command? Then the truth got revealed, crashing what he believed was the truth and changing all suddenly his reality, even the smallest lie, the good ones, all were at the same level at his eyes. They were mocking him, taking advantage of his blindness and of his exclusion from the secret language, similar to telepathy made of signs and expression that everyone else seemed to naturally have, treating him like a stupid, making him feel like one. He wondered if Nigel did the same, he supposed he did, he was a criminal, lying to cover his crimes was certainly a vital skill, but would he lie to him? He hadn’t even told him where he had gone.  
  
  


Nigel returned, crawled into bed. He could see Adam’s eyes shining in the starlight. He got close to him.  
  
  


“Nigel, where have you been?” Adam asked, his arms already embracing the Klingon.  
  
“I won’t tell you, Adam, if you don’t know you won’t be considered an accomplice,” Nigel said. He had thought about this all day, he had already compromised Adam’s life enough without adding stealing to his list of charges.  
  
Adam thought about it: that seemed logical and true, so he didn’t ask anything else. Nigel had preferred to omit the truth instead of invent one.  
  


“Adam, have you ever been on Andoria?” Nigel felt the Vulcan shake his head against his chest.  
  
“It’s a marvelous place,” Nigel said, feeling drowsy. “I think you would love it, it’s a frozen planet, the desert is fucking beautiful, and the skies there are so clean, the cities are inside caves excavated inside the immense icebergs, so outside it doesn’t even seem a living planet, only ice and silence for miles. I know Vulcans don't like cold, but you could just wear a hermetic suit, and we could bring some Vulcan tea to keep us warm. Everything is so calm and silent there, I never saw a beautiful sky like that one.”  
  
Adam was listening to him, quite confused about the point of that monologue. He had heard of Andoria of course, even if he hadn’t ever gone there. He and his father rarely went on vacation, his need for order made trips difficult to organize and the stress for him was enormous, over the years they had simply stopped trying. But Nigel’s monologue, using the we without even realizing, suggested he wanted Adam to go with him. The Vulcan wanted to ask when, he needed to get prepared for that, and how, since Andoria was a Federal planet, the Klingon was wanted there, but the young man stayed silent. Nigel slipped into sleep after a short time and Adam, still thinking about Andoria, followed him a few minutes later.

 


	9. Chapter 9

Nigel kept leaving the room, more and more often, accumulating with fatigue all the preparations for his escape. He always promised he’d come back, kissing Adam before he went, hushing the Vulcan’s objections about the fact that he couldn’t know. The arrival to the Station was getting nearer and nearer and Adam thought about how his days would be once the other man left. He was grateful that Nigel had told him; Beth hadn’t had the same courtesy, leaving him all of a sudden and breaking what had become his routine at the time, with no warning, not giving him the time to think about it. In the darkness of his room he recalled his life before Nigel.  
  
Nigel, on the other hand, couldn’t believe his departure was so near, he kept thinking of asking Adam to come with him, without being able to say the words. His mind fell often to that sweet fantasy, he found himself more than once stealing something more, for Adam’s ticket, realizing only after that Adam didn’t need a ticket, smiling sadly at his stupid error. He always returned from his trips, as promised, sneaking into bed, Adam always waiting for him, awake.

He had some tough moments. Returning from one of his expeditions, crawling in the hidden tube he had found studying the maps, he swore he had heard someone near, a voice talking, whispering, steps rapidly getting near, so close to catching him. He ran for his life.

He returned to Adam still breathing fast, his heart full of fear.  
  
Adam told him that was unusual, nobody should be around at that time of the night. Nigel confessed he had been scared, he was too close to his house, they would make the connection and read the confirmation of what they already knew. He whispered in the dark, while holding the Vulcan in his arms, kissing him with apprehension, on the neck, then passing to the lips, alternating quick and little kisses with intense ones, biting the Vulcan’s lips, carefully. Adam was purring, giving the kisses back, he surprisingly liked that sensation of the sharp teeth on his lips. Eventually Nigel stopped, leaning his head over the curls of the Vulcan who, purring, stroked against his neck. They stayed there, Nigel caressing Adam’s hair.

“Nigel, when are we going to Andoria?” Adam asked. He had kept wondering about it since Nigel had mentioned it, where they would sleep, eat, what would they see; he had even tried to search it on the computer. The Klingon stirred from the light torpor that was already surrounding him, he had forgotten that he had told Adam about his little dream, probably in the tiredness and nervousness of the day.

And now he wasn’t sure about what to say to his little boyfriend, softly laying on him.

“We should prepare travel plans, especially considering that you’re wanted there. We’ll have to avoid the immigration security. Besides, would you like to go in your ship? So we could sleep there and prepare my food–” Adam said, staring nowhere, concentrated on listing all he needed, with the expression of a schoolboy trying to remember a poem by heart. Nigel felt his love and tenderness inflate his chest, he wanted to squeeze Adam in his arms, cover him in kisses, but instead sadness sank into him: what was he supposed to say, how could he leave him?

“Adam, I’m sorry, I was just talking nonsense,” Nigel said, sighing, cutting off the Vulcan’s speech. Adam fell silent all of a sudden, he realized he had misunderstood as usual, his castle in the air collapsed, leaving him with the sensation of inadequacy and stupidity. The silence of the Vulcan was eloquent enough.

“I just–” Nigel said, wondering if he really wanted to say those words that had been maturing in his head for so long, but still weren’t ready to be spoken. “I just was thinking about bringing you with me, out of this place, and Andoria came up of nowhere,” Nigel said.

“But I live here,” Adam said, panic filling his voice. He couldn’t leave, this was his house, his things and his life were here.

“Yes, I know,” Nigel said, kissing him on the top of the head, almost hoping that it would calm him down.

Adam's initial panic extinguished as rapidly as it had risen. He wasn’t leaving, he didn't have to, his future was there, his life would remain the same, even if the idea of seeing Nigel again, to keep him as a constant was indeed pleasant. He couldn’t see how they would have lived, but he would definitely like to see him again, to sleep with him in his future, as they were in that moment. He squeezed Nigel in his arms. “I want to go to Andoria with you. But this is my home, I can’t leave this place for ever. I-I c-can’t,” Adam said, starting to stutter, his voice higher than usual, struggling to calm the agitation in his chest.

Nigel didn’t say anything, he just stroked Adam’s back, moving his hand in circular movements on Adam’s rib cage, feeling the thin body of the Vulcan below the cotton pajamas. “I know, babe.”

 


	10. Chapter 10

The sightings of suspicious people kept becoming more and more frequent. Adam started noticing some of his colleagues, always the same ones, appearing from corners at every turn, their eyes looking at him while they talked to each other, wearing strangely open smiles when he got closer. He realized he was never alone: every time he left his room someone was casually passing by, going in exactly the same direction he had to. They never talked to him, Adam just watched them out of the corner of his eye, keeping his head low, avoiding direct contact.

After Adam told him, during a particularly tense dinner, Nigel broke his glass of beer, crushing it in his hand. It exploded with a crystalline sound that made Adam jump in his chair, covering his ears and emitting a low moan. The Klingon immediately realized what he had done, standing up, cursing his own stupidity. He knelt in front of Adam, taking his chin, apologizing, while red blood started coloring the invisible cuts on his hand.

“I’m sorry babe, I didn’t want to scare you, I’m just worried for you,” Nigel said, trying to find the words to describe the desperation and anger he had felt imagining those ghost faces grinning, scaring his beloved boy outside his door. He wanted to hurt them, face them and defend Adam, how did they even dare? He kept whispering the same apologetic words in Adam’s ear, kissing him quickly, leaning his ridged forehead on the smooth one of the Vulcan. Adam took some seconds to stop the sound still alive in his head. He let his hands down, grabbing Nigel, feeling scared not because of the glass – he just had been feeling scared all day, a persecutory sensation, like a rabbit conscious the predator is near. He sobbed against the Klingon's neck and Nigel could feel the warmth of his breath, and tears wetting his skin.

Also Adam had started to leave the room more often: the Captain called him into his office multiple times, for paperwork mostly, and the young Vulcan had to obey, leaving his secret roommate alone for hours. Nigel usually stayed in bed, not having the energy to do anything, feeling more and more depressed as the deadline got closer. He could feel them watching him, he was almost sure they were everywhere. Maybe they could even see inside the room, and they hadn't arrested them yet because they were having fun, looking at him trapped like a rat, wandering in that suddenly too-small apartment. He could almost hear them. He even thought that maybe Adam himself might have betrayed him, maybe that's why he kept disappearing, the Captain was his friend after all and from what Adam had said, the Captain loved him. The Klingon shooed that thought away, ashamed by it, _ungrateful son of bitch_. The preparations for his departure were already set, now he just had to wait. He had time now, and nothing was worse than having too much time, he thought, trying to justify himself.

They spent their nights like before, whispering in the darkness, sleeping was getting difficult for both of them, and hearing the silence waiting for their destiny while thought and apprehensions crowed their minds was too much. Adam returned so tired and drained from the outside world that he rarely actually spoke before bedtime, only in the safety of the darkness with his ear on Nigel's chest he whispered to his lover about his day, relaying with a nervous voice what he had heard the others say. Letting out the transpiring sense of alienation and loneliness he had felt while others stared at him, knowing he was probably missing something, afraid to know what it was. His secret wasn't a secret after all, and he wasn't sure how he was supposed to behave.

Harlan hadn't mentioned Nigel any more, he just asked him about his work, making some quite dull observations on Adam's weekly reports. Nigel listened to Adam's disconnected words, incredibly detailed fragments of his world, but he had heard enough to understand that his freedom would not last long, he realized with anger. What was the point of that nonsense play? What were they waiting for? He wanted to scream to the empty rooms _to actually be fucking brave enough and get inside to fucking get him._

He welcomed it almost with relief when finally angry knocks interrupted their lunch. Nigel fell to his knees, putting his hands behind his head even before the groups of guards entered, forcing the door, with their phasers pointing at them, spitting orders. He grinned at the guard who, with no delicacy, tied his wrists in handcuffs.

And only then he saw his beloved boy, who had fallen on the ground curled against the wall, his plate fallen too, shattered. His pasta was all over the floor, but he stayed there pulling his beautiful curls, crying brokenly and burying his head in his legs. The guard, who probably had the order to arrest him, was looking confused and slightly scared at the Vulcan, still holding the handcuffs that Nigel, with a broken heart, realized were destined for Adam's wrists.

“What are you even waiting for, Ensign?” a woman's voice barked behind Nigel. The guard seemed to take courage, even if still dubious he grabbed Adam's arm, but the Vulcan brutally escaped the contact, screaming loudly and when the guards pointed their phasers at him, Nigel realized he had failed his promise. He was supposed to protect him. Irrational Klingon anger inflamed him, he had learned the hard way that impulsiveness wasn't a good card against armed guards, but he couldn't stand to see Adam being mistreated because of him. He let a low growl out, receiving as answer the cold kiss of the phaser, threatening the back of his head and a mocking hushing from the guard holding it.

The Ensign tried again to raise the Vulcan, who was still moaning mournfully, trying to get the entire situation to disappear.

“That's enough, Ensign!” The authority in Harlan's voice made the guards jump, and they immediately stood to attention like obedient little soldiers, forgetting all the cockiness they were wearing just a few seconds earlier. Nigel glanced at Harlan, finally seeing the face of that man for the first time, not giving him more than a few seconds. The Klingon tried to calm Adam down and convince him to be good and obey the guards, whispering from a distance begging words in the sweetest tone he could. He promised that all was going to be well, but the Vulcan didn't seem to be able to hear him, he kept crying, hyperventilating, and lamenting. His hand scratched at the arm the guard had touched in nervous and unnaturally strong and quick movements.   
  
  


The Captain got close to the boy, asking the Ensign still standing rigid by Adam to give him space. The guard obeyed immediately, and Nigel felt the one behind him pulling him up, back to his feet, pushing him brutally out of the room. As he went the Klingon saw Adam crying and Harlan knelt at his side, watching the Klingon with less-than-kind eyes, before finally disappearing behind the door of that place that had been his home for so long, as it closed in front of him. He found himself back in those shining hallways, staring at the door he had opened ages ago.

He sheepishly let the guard conduct him to his cell, a neat, empty little room. He didn't even think to escape, he didn't even entertain the people who stared at him, scared, while he passed. He rested in the cell staring at the ceiling, sadness taking over anger.

 


	11. Chapter 11

When Harlan interrupted his sad, self-pitying meditation, Nigel didn't even look at him, but kept staring at the ceiling. Openly disregarding him by not standing up from his bed as the Captain appeared behind the forcefield of his cell. Harlan wasn't so petty as to give him any satisfaction, he simply stared with an unimpressed look.   
  
  


“Adam told me everything,” the older man said. Nigel glared at him for a second, returning to the ceiling, trying to hide his concern and pain. Of course Adam had.

“You know, he is probably the only Vulcan who is not lying when he says he doesn't lie. I just had to ask him and he told me everything, about how you arrived all of sudden in his room, about how you had lived with him, about all the sweet things you said to him.” The man's voice assumed a mocking tone at this.

“Don't you think it's dishonorable to use people like that? Or you just thought it was funny to trick him? To play with his feelings that way and laugh after? Isn't it too easy to take advantage of fragile people?”

Nigel stood up at this, almost throwing himself against the forcefield. “He ain't _fragile_ ,” he hissed between his teeth, full of fury at the euphemism, staring Harlan right in his eyes. “He is probably the strongest person I've ever met in my entire fucking life just to stand all you fucking morons.” He spat, a few centimeters from the glowing field.

Harlan smirked at the Klingon's threatening attitude.

“I wasn't fucking lying!” the Klingon continued, unable to stop, knowing he should have. He was supposed to cover for Adam, but not that way. He would not destroy him behind the weak excuse of protecting him. He punched the invisible wall, static glowing and crackling following the impact of Nigel's fists, who growled at the pain in his hands.

“You are so stupid, aren't you?” Harlan said sighing. “What was your plan anyway? Arrive at the Station, collect enough to get your ride without anybody noticing? And what about Adam, since you loved him so much, what would you going to do with him? Leave him here facing a High Treason sentence while you returned to your old life, banging whores in exchange for drugs and guns? How brave and considerate of you.”

Nigel ducked his head, swallowing the burning accusation, with his fists still closed against the field. “I was going to take him with me,” he confessed, lowly, not believing he had actually had just said that.

“Really? He didn't say that,” Harlan said, trying to continue his play. Provocation always worked with guys like Nigel, partially due to his Klingon blood, maybe.

“I asked him, he didn't want to, but when it got so obvious he would not come out clean from this shitty situation – I couldn't leave him here,” Nigel said, knowing how fake his concern was. He wanted Adam with him because he couldn't stand the idea of separation, hiding behind the boy's well-being.

“Well, congratulations, you ruined his life,” Harlan concluded the conversation; it sounded pretty melodramatic and painfully true. He watched the Klingon, defeated, letting his hands run on the forcefield and leaning his forehead against it, on the verge of tears. The Captain surely wouldn't be moved by that and, almost disgusted by him, he left the room.

As usual, the crew made him a path, snapping to attention as soon as they saw him appear in the hallways, cutting their gossip about the demented Vulcan who apparently had hidden a criminal in his room for weeks. _T_ _hey were lovers,_ Harlan heard whispered not so far from him. When finally he was in the turbo-elevator, finally far from anyone's eyes, he sighed, muttering a curse through his teeth. The entire situation was absurd, hiding this would be impossible. Adam would have to go to prison, probably ending up in psychiatric care in less than a month, as soon as he refused to eat something that _wasn't_ _right_ or he had a meltdown.

And even he himself would probably have to face some sort of consequences. Explaining why, despite all the suspicious activity and even more and more frequent sightings of a stranger near Adam's room, he took so long to finally capture him. His past relationship with Adam's father would definitely play against him.

The turbo-elevator stopped, opening the doors to the ship's bridge. People were busily running around as usual, his trusted crew in their positions. The First Officer, a pretty, brilliant woman, immediately stood up as the Captain entered. Harlan wondered if she was already getting comfy in his chair, thinking how this ship might be all hers as soon as this entire situation blew up in his face.

The Captain asked her to watch the bridge for a little longer. “I have to go to my office now,” he said, then added, after a second, more as formality than a real question, “Is he still in there?”

“We didn't let him go out, as ordered, sir, not that he asked to anyway.” The woman returned to the captain's chair, sitting enthroned at the command of the ship in front of the huge screen where the dark space stayed silent. The Space Station floated, spinning around in the middle of it. The Captain passed in front of it, across the bridge, people who had fallen silent now looking at him passing.

He found Adam in his room curled in the chair in front of the Captain's desk. The Vulcan tea Harlan had given him was still on the table, untouched and cold already. Harlan didn't say anything, he let himself fall into his chair. Adam watched him, diverting his eyes away as soon as the other man looked at him, head low.

“How is Nigel?” he asked, playing with the ridges on his uniform at his knee, not looking at Harlan.   
  
  


“Are you serious?” the Captain asked, trying not to raise his voice too much, but even that had been enough to make Adam wince. The Vulcan bowed his head even more.

“Is that the first question you want to ask?” he continued, with his voice calmer, but still full of anger. “Are you even conscious of the situation you put yourself in?” His tone was getting more and more desperate as the scolding continued, sarcastic questions replaced by sincere ones. He really wondered if Adam had realized what was happening, what was going to happen.

“You are going to be dismissed from the Starfleet, face the Martial Court, and probably I won't even be allowed to be a part of it, since my emotional involvement is known to everybody. You will be found guilty and you will have to spend from five to ten years in a prison, Adam.” His voice got deep at that.

Adam nodded with force, quickly, more a nervous tick than an answer. “I know that,” he whimpered. “How is Nigel?” he asked without raising his head.

Harlan hid his face in his hands, feeling tired. When he returned his gaze to Adam, he was looking at him with a puzzled expression. He immediately re-assumed his sorry expression as he met the eyes of the Captain. Harlan sighed. “Listen kid, this is what we are going to do. We are going to tell the Court that that criminal manipulated you, tricked you, and if everything goes well they will blame only him and you might even get less than five years.” He took a deep breath, it really exhausted him to say this .

“I have spoken to the criminal. I've heard enough to be sure he would do everything for you, including laying your part of the guilt on himself. It's not like it will make a great difference to his situation.”

Adam glared at him, frowning. “But that's not true,” he said, confused. “And I can't lie.” Harlan knew that. “And I don't want to lie against Nigel.” he added.

Harlan had considered lying to him, keeping that part of the plan hidden from the boy, but he had seen how Adam reacted to lies. He didn't want to be cut from his life, even if he was sure he was doing the right thing. “You won't have to lie, Adam, the Court will consider you as an unreliable witness,” he said, hurt by his own words. Adam's past would speak for itself and if that wasn't enough, five seconds of Adam in front of people he didn't know, in that situation, his little ticks, his mechanical way of talking, his compulsion to repeat things with the exact same tone, his eyes wondering the room, that would be enough.

“They will assume that the criminal, who has a past as a successful crook, was able to take advantage of you, given your particular condition,” he concluded, closing his eyes, not even daring to look at Adam in that moment.

“ _Your particular condition_ ,” Adam repeated, imitating the tone Harlan had used, tilting his head a little.

“How is Nigel?” he asked again.

“Adam–”

“I want to see Nigel,” Adam said, hiding himself in his knees again.

“We don't have a choice. I don't believe in any of the shit I just told you, you know that. I'm just trying to get you out of this situation in the least painful way. I never treated you as a sick person, I know you are not.” Adam didn't answer to that, he kept hiding himself, refusing Harlan the forgiveness and approval he was trying to get. “Why do you want to see him?” the Captain asked, giving up.

“I got used to his presence,” Adam said. He wanted to embrace his boyfriend, as he always did when he was feeling sad, lonely, or lost as he was in that moment. He was scared about the future, he didn't remember much about the day, his last memory before the black out was a group of strangers entering his house loudly, Nigel falling to his knees. He was pretty sure he had thrown up at some point, he could smell it on his clothes. He had started to emerge from the darkness to find himself in Harlan's office, the smell of a Vulcan tea steaming in front of him while the older man was talking to him, softly ordering him to breathe. And then Harlan had asked him to tell him about Nigel, or _the Criminal_ , as he kept calling him; he hadn't said his name, not even once.

At first Adam didn't feel like talking, and collapsed in the chair, staring at the misty steam coming out the blue mug on the table. He just wanted to lie in bed with Nigel, in their home, panic rising every time Harlan told him that wasn't possible, that he wouldn't be able to return to his bed for that night. When finally the thought had sunk into his mind, he relayed, with his usual enormous amount of details, all the time he had passed with Nigel, reliving it in his mind. He hadn't seen Harlan's more and more concerned expression, his surprise when he told him how Nigel laughed as he purred, how they spent hours doing nothing just lying in bed, how the Klingon's forehead and spine felt under his hands, how they had kissed for the first time, how he hadthanked the Klingon for his kindness, how Nigel had bloodily marked him as his.

“You want to see him?” Harlan asked impatiently, tired of Adam's childish behavior. “Fine, I'll let you see him, but he will agree with me.” He added, “How did you think this was going to end anyway? Nigel told me he wanted to take you with him.”

Adam raised his head a little, still not looking at Harlan. “I wanted to go with him, on vacation,” he said feebly. “I thought about leaving my house and going with him, but I couldn't stand it,” he confessed, not seeing or even thinking of Harlan's pain when he admitted he had thought about leaving without even telling him.

“Did you really think you could go on vacation with a criminal while continuing your work here?”

“I thought it was nice thinking about doing so,” Adam said with his weak voice.

Harlan sighed, unbelieving, at the solution that all of a sudden had come to his mind. “You won't be able to return to your house anyway. You know that, you will have to leave the Starfleet,” he said bluntly. There wasn't any point in trying to be indirect with Adam. The Vulcan sobbed into his knee; he knew that, even if he was trying to keep that logical deduction quiet in his mind. He nodded.

“Now, you could leave it for a prison, or you could leave it for something else,” the older man continued, taking the long way, more to be sure he could still stop himself rather than to make Adam think about where he wanted to end up. The Vulcan was still sobbing, but he held his breath, trying to figure out what Harlan was trying to say. “You could–” Harlan took a deep breath, closing his eyes, praying to have enough courage or stupidity to actually let the words come out his mouth. “Nigel could be able to escape from his cell, because a Lieutenant with pointed ears helped him, since the stupid Captain left him unguarded,” he said.

Adam finally looked in his direction, confused. He had understood what Harlan was implying but he was so shocked by it that every reaction had been suspended.

“Look, I don't like that guy, I really don't. Actually I'd love to punch him, but he really cares about you and I'd prefer to see you with one criminal that loves you than closed in with hundreds of criminals who don't for five years,” he said standing up, adjusting his uniform.

“Well, it's late, I should be sleeping already. Would you like to give me a hug, as a goodnight wish?” Harlan said, trying to hide his sadness and feeling the cry already closing his throat.

Adam stood up, still dizzy and confused he hugged Harlan. The older man knew he couldn't give the hug back, he just let the Vulcan squeeze him, feeling the tears finally breaking. He sniffed as Adam let him go, and Harlan gave him a pat on the shoulder, grabbing it. “I'm pretty sure a brilliant boy like you knows how to send encrypted messages, don't you?” Adam nodded, the procedure was pretty simple actually, especially in Federal ships that received a flow of messages every day.

“Then you won't have an excuse, I'd love to read even an infinite list of astronomical discoveries,” Harlan said, smiling. He patted Adam's shoulder one last time and then, still sniffing, he left the room, Adam still looking puzzled at him.

 


	12. Epilogue

“You were right, it is beautiful.” Adam said sitting on the thick blanket, the condensation coming from his mouth, appearing only partially from the woollen scarf. The little metallic mug smoking in his gloved hands, his blue eyes shining looking at the stars. Silence and ice surrounding them. He had kept looking marvelously at the sky and at the ice gigantic elegant structures, running around holding Nigel's hand, who was admiring more his little Vulcan than the ice desert around them. They had stopped to rest a little before the heart of the night arrived with his deadly cold, the more clement younger night was still warm enough for them to stay out and let Adam admire his beloved sky.

 

They were hugging in the night, Adam wrapping the Klingon in his arms leaning against the other's chest, while Nigel passed his finger through Adam's cold curls, well hidden in the heavy hood.

“You shouldn't take your gloves off, you will get cold.” Adam scolded him smiling as he grabbed the other's hand taking it to his lips, kissing it.

 

The time passed with Nigel had it's beautiful moments, even if the violent change in his life had been traumatic. He more than once had wondered, in the worst picks of panic, if he really had done the right choice, becoming a criminal, as Nigel was. Helping him to escape and becoming a wanted fugitive from the Federation, signed as Traitor of the Starfleet.

 

In the first weeks since he had left the ship, he had the continuing need to rest in his bed, alone or with Nigel in his arms, sometimes whispering in disconnected words his concerns for everything he had left behind, others he just fell in an apathetic silence, staring the room that he still failed to recognize as his own, even if he had decorated it.  Other times he destroyed things, in the loud anger of desperation or he just “lost time” as he used to call the black moments when his brain was so tired and upset that it wasn't able to record or react. He found himself lying on bed or with the head on his desk, feeling empty and nauseous. Nigel, unless explicitly told otherwise, was always there at his side. Adam had learned not to apologize afterwards.

 

Their new ship was fairly large. Nigel had cleared a room, the only one with an entire wall occupied by a window to give it to Adam. He could work there, build his little models or just for when he needed to stay in the company of only the light of the stars.

 

“It could be your new Special Place, you could even put some plants here, and I bet it won't be difficult to find some mice.” Nigel had said smiling, showing the spacious room with his arms opened, cutting the light of the stars shining white behind him. The Klingon always accomplished every desire Adam expressed, blind to any difficulty in his love.

 

When Adam had come to find him in his cell, Nigel had already finished his brief and frustrated cry. He was sitting on the cell's bed, hiding his face, while sadness and fury kept shifting in his mind. A part of him wanted to refuse the plan, in which Adam had to become a wanted criminal, but the sweet idea of living with him and to have the chance to make up for his failure on protecting him had finally won. They had ran with the essential things Adam couldn't leave without; some clothes, his precious models and the ancient spacesuit that now decorated his Special Place. Nigel had held his hand as they had passed in the crowd of the commercial Station, so many faces and voices, loudly violating the Vulcan's mind. He followed Nigel blindly, keeping his head low and shaking for the fear. The ride, paid high by Nigel, had been rather uncomfortable, stuck in a dark and humid storage. Adam refused to eat since there wasn't his food, the Klingon first begged him, then he tried more and more desperately but at the Vulcan's reaction he stopped.

 

 

Once they arrived at the ship, when the needs of their bodies were sated and his mind finally had time to think, Adam had started to react to all he had done and all that had changed. While a new routine got slowly set and the space got more and more familiar, the fear of being caught started to fade, and the moments with Nigel got more sweet and intense. All of a sudden Nigel had become the only person in his life.

 

 

 

 

When he felt more calm and his life got predictable as he liked it to be, he asked Nigel shyly if he still wanted to go to Andoria. With the only condition that he would let him do all the preparations he needed and the promise they would respect his plan with no errors. Nigel had been enthusiastic, relieved to see Adam getting better day after day. He couldn't resist and grabbed the Vulcan in his arms, kissing him on his neck, while Adam, reaching his limit, started to complain because Nigel was suffocating him.

 

“I'm sorry, you're just too cute,” Nigel had said, releasing his grip to hold his hands, leaning to kiss him on his cheek. Adam smiled, blushing, feeling the arousal blossoming in him.

 

 

 

* * *

 

Adam watched amused as his foot sunk in the snow and the creaking sound that it provoked. He had already seen the snow, on Earth, but not like this, not so bright and virgin, soft and compacted at the same time. Nigel was walking right behind him, holding a bottle of Romulan Ale, taking a sip periodically. Adam had said him that despite the sensation that alcohol gave him, it was actually exposing his body to hypothermia rather than warming him up. Nigel had fun, provoking the Vulcan logic while the alcohol burnt his throat and the sweet fire warmed his chest.

Eventually unknown footprints appeared, before theirs, a sign they were getting closer to the civilized world. A shining metallic cabin, tear-shaped more to evoke velocity than for actual aerodynamic reasons, was already ready on the rail.

 

“You're the last people on returning, next time you might be killed by the cold night.” a grumpy Andorian said pointing them with the pale blue antennae, muttering something about reckless idiotic tourists, so fascinating by that bloody desert. Nigel moved toward him, decided to make him repeat it louder and then they would see who was more reckless, but Adam grabbed him by the arm, soothing immediately the anger. The Klingon growled, and that was enough to shout up the Andorian that step back and giving them way to the cabin. Adam apologized for the delay with his usual polite manners.

 

 

They sat in the soft red pillows of the cabin, Nigel, exhausted by the long walk and the cold, letting himself fall on them with Adam curled by his side. While the cabin started its silent journey, the world changing outside the window was the only hint of their movement. Nigel grabbed the thermos in his backpack, serving some hot tea in the metallic cup. Despite his initial distaste for that insipid beverage that Adam gulped down so often, he had started to like it, especially when the cold numbed his hands and face. He offered some of it to the Vulcan, and watched, smiling, while Adam drank the tea in the cup Nigel was still holding in his hands. Saying “thank you” after returning to lay lazily on his shoulder.

 

 

 

 

The empty white desert and the dark sky disappeared, giving place to a thick wall of ice. The cabin kept running inside the narrow tunnel, and bright, artificial light started to appear and disappear inside the cabin through the window. Adam closed his eyes. Nigel looked at him, remembering when the simple idea of having him close, as he was now, had been impossible.

 

 

 

 

The cabin stopped, waking them both up as the door opened and frozen air invaded the warm atmosphere. The whole city was inside the heart of the iced mountain. Yellow light, as similar as possible to the light of a sun filtered through. A courtesy more for the tourists than for the natives, who passed most of their lives inside and therefore wouldn't find a “non-natural” light weird. Shops and restaurants were nuzzled all over the sides of the cave, with loud and shining insignia, and the noise of clattering plates and discussion filled the air. The monorail station was crowded with people of all races, though most were blue Andorians, walking in a rush and pushing, frustrated, through the slow flocks of tourists, which were composed of many different species, speaking different languages and dressed following different fashions.

 

 

 

Adam was walking behind Nigel, leaning his forehead against his shoulder when the crowd surrounding them got too suffocating, always holding his hand. Nigel lead him into one o the famous fast food restaurants of Andoria, while Adam leaned against his back, hiding from the world. The Klingon bought a portion of take-away Cabbage Soup. The Vulcan, still behind Nigel's shoulders, started to get more relaxed, once out the crowed loud streets. He was still covered up, as when they were outside, despite the weather was kinder in the city, he was still wearing the hood, finding it a pleasant barrier for his pointed ears. He glared curious, spying from Nigel shoulder, the fat proprietary spatting orders to the cooks in the kitchen, he grabbed a plastic large bowl of yellow creamy soup, decorated with a leaf of thyme on the top, packing it with few fast moves. He then handed it to Nigel, smiling at the tourists, changing his first angry mood completely, the antennae following his sudden change of tone. He turned to watch Adam asking his order with his eyes only, but Nigel just paid and said goodbye, grabbing Adam's hand and leading him back in the streets while the younger man repeated the farewell shyly. Nigel never tried to force him to try new food, they never ate in restaurants, he always bought his food and then they ate in the streets or in a park, when they couldn't come back home, Adam was free to unpack his lunch box far from judging eyes.

 

They abandoned the lights of the city, despite the night life having just started. Nigel was too tired to stroll in the bright streets and Adam certainly didn't care about the common idea of “fun”. They went straight to the Hotel where they had been residing during their little vacation, Adam had picked it, mostly because it had replicators in each room and water shower. As soon as they got in the room Nigel abandoned his backpack in the first place it decided to fall, while Adam was hanging his coat and leaving his boots right below it. While Nigel put up the table opening the package with his soup and serving the hot cream in a plate, Adam ordered his mac and cheese at the replicator. They sat in the little table.

 

“It has been a beautiful day, we also stayed perfectly on time in according to my plan.” Adam said while starting to eat his pasta. Nigel nodded blowing on his too hot yellow soup. Enjoying being finally in such a warm and relaxed place, they both ate commenting the spectacular things they had seen that day.

After the dinner, they had a shower, Nigel loved to wash the curled hair of the Vulcan, massaging it in the thin soft suds with the lavender scented shampoo, the delicate scent diffusing in the air, as Adam purred loudly with his eyes closed. The Vulcan instead cleaned him slowly, methodically massaging his body, sensually teasing while Nigel moaned quietly, getting closer to kiss him while the hot water covered him, the steaming filling the air. Most then once the Klingon had knelt on the wet floor of the shower, while Adam glared at him, suddenly not feeling his body under his hands. Nigel then started to suck him, admiring Adam's beautiful body contracting as the arousal grew, his clear blue eyes closing and his head rising, he welcomed grateful the salty flavour filling his mouth as Adam grabbed his hair, sometimes pulling it, as the orgasm left him.

“Do you want to stay with me in the bedroom for a while? I know it's early.” Adam asked while Nigel was brushing his teeth, he smiled at him, spitting the toothpaste and rushing to wash his moouth to join his Vulcan.

“I would never say no to that.” he said grinning. Adam took Nigel's hand, leading him through the short hallway. Arriving in the bedroom Nigel was already kissing the Vulcan, he stopped only when he saw an unknown bottle neatly left in the centre of the bed.

 

“What is that?” He asked smiling complicit to the Vulcan.

 

“It's mint oil.” Adam said smiling “Vulcans used it as aphrodisiac.”

 

Nigel's smile got wilder “Am I not enough aphrodisiac for you?” he said mocking but Adam got serious. “That's not what I thought.” he said frowning, trying to figure out if Nigel was really offended or if he was joking. “Mint effects on Vulcans had been proven scientifically, I just thought it would be fun to use it.” he added trying to explain his intentions better.

 

“It's our honeymoon after all.” Nigel's eyes wide opened in surprise at that, trying to figure out what rail the so brilliant and beautiful mind of Adam had covered this time to arrive at that conclusion. “I know we don't technically got married, yet, but we are living together, sharing our property and house and we are in a sexual relationship. And now we are doing a trip together, isn't it close enough?” Adam continued, looking away immerse in his thought, then suddenly returning to look in Nigel's direction, his eyes shining. “And I know what happens during the honeymoon.” the Vulcan whispered into the Klingon's ear.

Nigel laughed, a low chuckle shaking his chest while he hugged the Vulcan. “Again with your holo-novels?” he said immersing himself in Adam's neck, taking a deep breath, smelling his scent. He felt Adam's hands grabbing his shirt and slowly raising the hem of it. He let the Vulcan undress him while they got near the bed. He sat on the edge of the bed while Adam climbed into his lap. Nigel took Adam's shirt off, admiring the pale and delicate skin of the Vulcan while Adam leaned and reached for the bottle behind the Klingon. Nigel kept kissing him, already hungry for him as Adam opened it, a strong mint smell emanating from the bottle.

 

He wrinkled his nose at it. Klingons usually didn't like artificial smells, they preferred to smell the natural scent of their partner, but since his boyfriend wanted it, he didn't say anything. Adam took a deep sniff from the bottle, tasting the smell that was already opening his lungs and making his heartbeat go faster. He pushed the Klingon gently, making him lie down and letting his hand run over the numerous scars on Nigel's body. His finger traced the ink marks of his tattoos while holding the bottle in the other hand. He could feel Nigel's erection right below him, between his legs, still restrained by his pants, his cock getting harder.

 

He unzipped Nigel's pants, sliding his hand into them, making Nigel moan. The Klingon grabbed his curly hair, while the Vulcan took his underwear down as he got up from his lap, revealing his already semi-hard cock.

 

“Please, turn around on your belly,” he asked, no nervousness in his usually hesitant, high voice. Nigel obeyed, already dizzy from the excitement, and he felt the Vulcan crawling over him again, being careful not to put all his weight on him.

 

Adam poured a generous portion of the mint oil on his hands, feeling again the smell electrocuting him with rushing pleasure as he set the bottle on the table near the bed.

 

He started to massage Nigel's upper back first, drawing circles on the shoulder blades, then passing to the vertebrae. Touching the ridges delicately and carefully, one by one like that time in the Garden, when they had for the first time drawn pleasure from each other. Adam could feel the mint smell entering his body, inebriating his senses and eclipsing his thoughts. His heart beating faster, his eyes felt bigger, he could feel his blood pumping and his arousal getting harder as he ran his fingers along the Klingon's spine, remembering the first time he had touched him. He took his time, studying Nigel's muscles and caressing every imperfection on his skin, every little scar, feeling the more pronounced ones beneath his fingers, his erection getting heavier as he leaned over Nigel to kiss his hair and then the back of his neck, lastly on the Klingon's sharp spine.

 

“I want you inside me,” he whispered in his ear, causing Nigel to moan loudly. He started to mutter some rough words in Klingon; despite the angry and rasping sound natural to the language, it sounded almost pleading. Adam had studied a bit of that difficult and strange tongue during his years in the Academy, only the common words that would be rude to say in Basic in a diplomatic exchange . He could gather _love, fire, my, blood, moon_ and _forever_ , butthe general meaning of Nigel's disconnected chant stood unknown, even if Adam was fascinated by the gurgling spell that Nigel was reciting against the pillow.

Slowly Adam laid at Nigel's side caressing his hair, as the Klingon slowly recovered from the intensity of Adam's touch.

“What were you saying?” the Vulcan asked as he saw Nigel's eyes become less foggy and more focused. Adam was trying to hold his mind in place, despite the inebriating mint odour that was getting stronger and the way that he could still feel Nigel's warm skin below his fingers.

“Some things lose their beauty when bent to be understandable by others,” he said, grinning. As Adam frowned, the Klingon admitted, “I just recited you an old poem, that’s all.”

Nigel looked at him, amused by the younger man struggling while his rationality and taught logic got drowned in eyes full of languid luxury. The Klingon had never chanted a poem to anyone, he actually found that part of the ritual stupid, but as he felt Adam’s hands, the sensation so indescribable that the idea crept up on him, his erection barely touched, the words just coming out of his mouth, his native language not slipping out for a curse, for once.

“Since you have been so prepared, did you bring some lube too?” he asked, whispering lasciviously in Adam's pointed ear, biting it a little.

“Drawer,” Adam moaned, his arousal, now evident, was pumping, obfuscating his mind. He removed his pants that were tight against his crotch. Nigel leaned over him, opening the drawer of the little table near the bed; reaching in he felt some paper in it, probably some cheap advertising for the hotel, and finally a little jar.

He put himself in the middle of Adam's legs, opening them while the Vulcan was looking at him. Everything felt so weird to Adam, his rationality was absent. He really wasn't sure he could even speak, his skin felt like it was burning, he could feel everything so intensely. The smell of mint mixed with Klingon sweat was filling the room, he could feel the soft sheets below him – he had taken the ones they used in their ship, having refused to get used to new ones for such a short trip – and Nigel's hot body.

His vision was distant and foggy. Nigel opened the little jar and immersed a finger in it. He moaned as he felt one of Nigel's fingers slowly inserted into him, then after a few moments he felt two massaging him inside. He felt the urge to touch himself. His only thought was about what was happening and what was going to happen. As his hand moved to stroke his hard cock as Nigel inserted a third finger, the Klingon grabbed it with his free hand.

 

“No, be good now,” Nigel scolded him, smiling but his voice serious. "Trust me, it's better if you wait,” he whispered.

Adam complained, moaning, but he let the Klingon restrain his hand, holding it down on the mattress. Nigel's cock was teasing him, he could feel it hard against his thighs. Nigel removed his fingers slowly from him, laying his hand right near Adam's head. The Klingon bent down as he entered Adam. He was surrounding him, panting against his neck as he thrust inside him, with more and more force.

 

Nigel licked and kissed his mark that he had renewed so often lately, a dark green bite on Adam's white skin. Adam offered himself, turning his head, craving for Nigel's teeth in his flesh, moaning softly, pulling the Klingon's hair with his free hand, while the other one was still trapped in the Klingon's grip. The sharp bite he received made another wave of pleasure blossom in him, as the Klingon entered him fully. Nigel moved rhythmically and violently while the sweet pain in Adam's neck got more intense, weakening his shoulder.

 

The metallic smell of his blood filled Nigel's nose. Nigel was tasting Adam's skin, it was dry and soft, while his was rough and sweaty. The lavender and now-so-familiar smell of the Vulcan covered the strong and alien smell of mint that he could still sense, cold on his back. He came inside him, the warmth of Adam's cum radiating on his belly as the green blood filled his mouth, with Adam almost whimpering moans as his orgasm left him.

 

They both lay on the bed, Nigel falling at Adam's side. The jar had toppled, part of the gelatinous transparent lube had fallen in the sheets. Their heavy breaths, still far from calm, filled the silence of the room. Nigel's skin was pearled with sweat, the oil had left a thin trace on the sheets. Adam's eyes were unfocused.

The Klingon started to clean the cum off his lovely Vulcan, from Adam's belly and his own with a napkin he found in the drawer. Then he curled up to Adam, kissing him on the forehead and then turning his head a bit; the bite this time was actually bad, rivulets of dark green blood were running down his neck, spotting the pillow below his head.

Nigel stood up, grunting a little as he got out of the bed, still too exhausted to do anything, searching for the medical kit he was sure Adam had brought in his suitcase. When he finally found and returned to the bed, Adam was looking at him. The Klingon smiled at him.

"This time will you let me cauterize it?" he prodded the Vulcan who shook his head with force, despite the pain that the movement caused him and the exhaustion. Nigel scoffed, making a sign to Adam to shift a little, and he sat near to him. The Vulcan sat up a little offering his wound. Nigel cleaned it, admiring the Vulcan stoicism that Adam showed: the disinfectant was probably burning, but the only sign of pain from him was a little movement of his jaw. Once the plaster was in place, now a usual accessory on Adam, Nigel, as always, kissed it.

The Vulcan giggled. "You still smell of mint," he said. Nigel had never heard him giggling, but the sound - difficult to call giggling, it was slightly too loud and weird somehow - and Adam's expression were adorable.

"The whole fucking room smells of mint, babe. I don't think it will ever go away, but seeing the effect it has on you, I would say that this is going to be a hell of honeymoon."

Adam emitted that sound again. "Is that a good thing?"

Nigel kissed him on his lips. "Definitely."

 


End file.
